THE  FAITH   HEALER 


THE  FAITH  HEALER 

in  four 


BY 

WILLIAM  VAUGHN   MOODY 


BOSTON    AND    NEW   YORK 
HOUGHTON   MIFFLIN   COMPANY 

re$£  Cambti&0e 
1909 


it 

COPYRIGHT,   1909,   BY  WILLIAM   VAUGHN   MOODY 

ALL   RIGHTS   RESERVED 
COPYRIGHTED   ALSO   AS   A   DRAMATIC   COMPOSITION 

Published  January  iqoq 


PERSONS  OF  THE  PLAY 

ULRICH  MICHAELIS 

MATTHEW  BEELER 

MARY  BEELER,  his  wife 

MARTHA  BEELER,  his  sister 

ANNIE  BEELER,  his  daughter 

RHODA  WILLIAMS,  Mrs.  Beeler's  niece 

DR.  GEORGE  LITTLEFIELD 

REV.  JOHN  CULPEPPER 

UNCLE  ABE,  an  old  negro 

LAZARUS,  an  Indian  boy 

A  YOUNG  MOTHER,  with  her  child 

Various  sick  persons,  and  others  accom 
panying  them 


: 


ACT  I 


ACT  I 

A  large  old-fashioned  room  in  Matthew  Peeler's  farm 
house,  near  a  small  town  in  the  Middle  West.  The 
room  is  used  both  for  dining  and  for  general  living 
purposes.  It  suggests,  in  architecttire  and  ftirnish- 
ings,  a  past  of  considerable  prosperity,  which  has 
now  given  place  to  more  htimble  living.  The  house 
is,  in  fact,  the  ancestral  home  of  Mr.  Beeler  s  wife, 
Mary,  born  Beards  ley,  a  family  of  the  local  farming 
aristocracy,  now  decayed.  At  the  rear  is  a  large  win 
dow  and  window-seat,  set  in  a  broad  alcove.  This 
alcove  is  flanked  on  the  left  *  by  a  double  door  set 
cross-wise  in  the  corner,  leading  to  a  hall.  Off  this 
hall  open  two  bedrooms  (not  seen),  one  belonging  to 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Beeler,  the  other  to  Rhoda  Williams,  a 
niece  of  Mrs.  Beeler,  child  of  her  dead  sister.  To  the 
right  of  the  window  is  a  small  entrance  hall,  the 
door  of  which  when  opened  shows  the  side  yard,  with 
trees  and  farm  buildings.  In  the  right  wall  of  the 
room  a  door  and  covered  stairway  lead  to  the  upper 
story.  Further  forward  is  a  wall-cupboard,  and  a 
door  leading  into  the  kitchen.  Opposite  this  cup 
board,  in  the  left-hand  wall  of  the  room,  is  a  man 
telpiece  and  grate. 

*  NOTE.  —  Right  and  left  are  from  the  spectator's  standpoint. 


4  THE  FAITH   HEALER         [ACT  I 

The  room  contains,  among  other  articles  of  furniture, 
a  dining-table  (with  detachable  leaves  to  reduce  its 
bulk  when  not  in  use  for  eating  purposes),  an  old- 
fashioned  wall  clock,  a  low  sofa  of  generous  size,  and 
a  book-shelf,  upon  which  are  arranged  the  scientific 
books  which  Mr.  Beeler  takes  a  somewhat  untutored 
but  genuine  delight  in.  Tacked  upon  the  wall  near 
by  are  portraits  of  scientific  men,  Darwin  and  Spen 
cer  conspicuous  among  them,  cut  from  periodicals. 
Other  pictures,  including  family  daguerreotypes  and 
photographs,  are  variously  distributed  about  the 
walls.  Over  the  mantel-shelf  hangs  a  large  map  of 
the  United  States  and  Mexico,  faded  and  fly-specked. 

As  the  curtain  rises,  the  room  is  dark>  except  for  a 
dull  fire  in  the  grate.  The  ticking  of  the  clock  is 
heard ;  it  strikes  six.  Martha  Beeler,  a  woman  of 
forty -five,  enters  from  tJie  kitchen,  carrying  a  lighted 
lamp.  She  wears  a  shawl  over  her  shoulders,  a 
print  dress,  and  a  kitchen  apron.  She  places  the  lamp 
on  the  table,  which  is  set  for  breakfast,  and  puts 
coal  in  the  grate,  which  soon  flames  more  brightly. 
She  goes  into  the  hall  and  is  heard  knocking  and 
calling. 


ACT  I]         THE  FAITH   HEALER  5 

MARTHA. 
Rhody!  Rhody! 

She  is  heard  to  open  and  shut  Rhoda  s  bedroom  door. 
Another  door  in  the  hall  is  heard  to  open.  Matthew 
Beeler,  a  man  of  fifty,  enters.  He  is  not  quite 
dressed,  but  finishes  as  he  comes  in.  Martha  follows 
him. 

Where 's  that  niece  of  yours  got  to  now  ? 

BEELER. 
She 's  helpin'  Mary  dress. 

MARTHA. 

What  in  time 's  Mary  gettin'  up  for  ?    She  Js  only 
in  the  way  till  the  work 's  done. 

BEELER. 
She 's  restless. 

MARTHA. 
Significantly. 
I  should  n't  wonder. 


6  THE  FAITH   HEALER         [ACT  I 

BEELER. 

At  the  window,  rolls  up  the  curtain. 

We're  going  to  have  just  such  another  day  as 
yesterday.  Never  seen  such  a  fog. 

He  jerks  the  curtain  down  again. 

MARTHA. 

Refusing  to  be  put  off. 
I  hope  you  know  why  Mary  did  n't  sleep. 

BEELER. 
Evasively. 

She 's  always  been  a  light  sleeper,  since  she  got  her 
stroke. 

MARTHA. 

Look  here,  Mat  Beeler !  I  'm  your  born  sister.  Don't 
try  to  fool  me !  You  know  why  your  wife  did  n't 
sleep  last  night. 

BEELER. 

Maybe  I  do,  Sis. 
Points  at  the  ceiling. 
Is  he  up  yet? 


ACT  I]         THE  FAITH   HEALER  7 

MARTHA. 
Up  !  I  don't  believe  he 's  been  abed. 

They  listen,  as  to  the  tread  of  some  one  on  the  floor 
above. 

Back  and  forth,  like  a  tiger  in  a  cage  1 

BEELER. 
Shrugs. 

Queer  customer. 

MARTHA. 
Yes  — 

Imitates  him. 

"  Queer  customer,"  that 's  you.  But  come  to  dohV 
anything  about  it ! 

BEELER. 

As  Martha  goes  out  by  the  kitchen  door. 
Give  me  time,  Sis,  give  me  time ! 

He  lights  a  lantern  meditatively,  and  holds  it  up  be 
fore  the  print  portraits. 

MornhV,  Mr.  Darwin.   Same  to  you,  Mr.  Spencer. 
Still  keepin'  things  straight? 

The  hall-door  again  opens,  and  Rhoda  Williams,  a  girl 
of  twenty,  enters  with  Annie  Beeler,  a  child  of  ten. 


8  THE  FAITH   HEALER         [ACT  I 

ANNIE. 

Tugs  at  Rhodas  dress. 
Cousin  Rho !   You  have  n't  buttoned  my  dress. 

Rhoda  sits  down,  with  the  child  before  her,  and  begins 
to  button  the  long  slip. 

BEELER. 

At  the  outer  door. 
How  does  your  aunt  strike  you  this  morning? 

RHODA. 
Earnestly. 
She  seems  wonderfully  better. 

BEELER. 
Better ! 

RHODA. 

I  don't  mean  her  poor  body.  She 's  got  past  caring 
for  that. 

BEELER. 
With  sarcasm. 
You  mean  better  in  her  mind,  eh  ? 


ACT  I]         THE  FAITH   HEALER  9 

RHODA. 
Yes,  I  mean  better  in  her  mind. 

BEELER. 

Because  of  what  this  fellow  has  been  saying  to  her, 
I  suppose. 

RHODA. 
Yes,  because  of  that. 

BEELER. 

Grunts  as  he  turns  down  his  lantern,  which  is  smoking. 
An  out-and-out  fakir ! 

RHODA. 
You  don't  know  him. 

BEELER. 

I  suppose  you  do,  after  twenty-four  hours.  What 
in  the  name  of  nonsense  is  he,  anyway  ?  And  this 
deaf  and  dumb  Indian  boy  he  drags  around  with 
him.  What 's  his  part  in  the  show  ? 


io  THE  FAITH   HEALER         [ACT  I 

RHODA. 

I  know  very  little  about  either  of  them,  but  I  know 
Mr.  Michaelis  is  not  —  what  you  say. 

BEELER. 

Well,  he 's  a  crank  at  the  best  of  it.  He  Js  worked 
your  aunt  up  now  so 's  she  can't  sleep.  —  You 
brought  him  here,  and  you  've  got  to  get  rid  of  him. 

Exit  by  outer  door,  with  inarticulate  grumblings,  among 
which  can  be  distinguished,  "Humph  !  Ulrich  Mi- 
chaelis  !  There 's  a  name  for  you  !  " 

ANNIE. 
What's  a  fakir? 

Rhoda  does  not  answer.  Steps  are  heard  descending 
the  stairs.  The  child  fidgets  nervously. 

Hurry  up !  He 's  coming  down. 

RHODA. 
Nonsense,  Annie.  Hold  still. 

ANNIE. 
In  a  panic. 

Let  me  go ! 


ACT  I]         THE  FAITH   HEALER  n 

She  breaks  away  and  retreats  to  the  hall  door,  watching 
the  stair  door  open,  and  Ulrich  Michaelis  enter. 
Thereupon,  with  a  glance  of  frightened  curiosity,  she 
flees.  Michaelis  is  a  man  of  twenty-eight  or  thirty, 
with  emaciated  face,  and  abundant  hair  worn  longer 
than  common.  His  frame,  though  slight,  is  power- 
ful,  and  his  way  of  handling  himself  has  the  free 
dom  and  largeness  which  come  from  much  open  air 
life.  There  is  nevertheless  something  curiously  vague 
and  indecisive  in  his  movements.  He  has  a  trick  of 
handling  things,  putting  them  down  only  to  take  them 
up  again  immediately,  before  renouncing  them  for 
good.  His  face  shows  the  effect  of  sleeplessness,  and 
his  gray  flannel  shirt  and  dark  coarse  clothing  are 
rumpled  and  neglected. 

RHODA. 
As  he  enters. 

Good-morning,  Mr.  Michaelis. 

MICHAELIS. 
Good-morning. 

Rhoda  adds  the  finishing  touches  to  the  breakfast-table. 
Michaelis  stops  beside  her  in  his  nervous  walk  and 
asks  hesitatingly : 

Why  does  that  child  —  ? 
He  breaks  off  embarrassed. 


12  THE  FAITH   HEALER         [ACT  I 

RHODA. 

O,  Annie 's  a  queer  little  body.  She  has  her  mother's 
nerves.  And  then  she  sees  no  one,  living  here  on 
the  back  road.  If  this  dreadful  fog  ever  lifts,  you  '11 
see  that  though  we  're  quite  near  town,  it 's  almost 
as  if  we  were  in  the  wilderness. 

The  stair  door  again  opens,  and  an  Indian  boy,  about 
sixteen  years  old,  enters.  He  is  dressed  in  ordinary 
clothes,  and  except  for  his  dark  skin,  longish  hair, 
and  the  noiseless  tread  of  his  moccasined  feet,  gives 
no  sign  of  his  race.  He  bows  to  Rhoda,  who  returns 
his  salutation  ;  then,  with  a  glance  at  Michaelis,  he 
goes  outdoors. 

RHODA. 
Nods  toward  the  closing  door. 

It's  really  him  Annie 's  afraid  of.  He 's  like  a  crea 
ture  from  another  world  to  her. 

MICHAELIS. 

Looks  at  her  in  an  odd,  startled  way. 
Another  world  ? 

RHODA. 

O,  you  're  used  to  his  people.  Your  father  was  a 
missionary  to  the  Indians,  you  told  me. 


ACT  I]         THE  FAITH   HEALER  13 

MlCHAELIS. 

Yes. 

RHODA. 
Where? 

MlCHAELIS. 

At  Acoma. 

RHODA. 
Where  is  that? 

MlCHAELIS. 

Standing  near  the  wall  map,  touches  it. 
In  New  Mexico,  by  the  map. 

RHODA. 
Comes  nearer. 

What  is  it  like? 

MlCHAELIS. 

It 's  —  as  you  say  —  another  world. 

RHODA. 
Describe  it  to  me. 


14  THE  FAITH  HEALER        [ACT  I 

MlCHAELIS. 

Gazing  at  the  map. 

I  couldn't  make  you  see  it.  It's  —  centuries  and 
centuries  from  our  time. 

RHODA. 

Tell  me  a  little,  at  least.  What  was  it  like,  that 
place  where  you  lived  ? 

MlCHAELIS. 

Becomes  absorbed  in  his  own   mental  picture  as  he 
speaks. 

A  gigantic  table  of  stone,  rising  five  hundred  feet 
sheer  out  of  the  endless  waste  of  sand.  A  little 
adobe  house,  halfway  up  the  mesa,  with  the  desert 
far  below,  and  the  Indian  pueblo  far  above.  A  tiny 
garden,  with  three  peach  trees,  and  a  spring  which 
the  Indians  worshiped  in  secret.  A  little  chapel, 
which  my  father  had  built  with  his  own  hands. 
He  often  spent  the  night  there,  praying.  And  there 
—  one  morning  —  I  found  him  lying  dead  before 
the  altar. 

RHODA. 

After  a  moment's  hush. 
And  you  —  what  did  you  do  then  ? 


ACT  I]         THE  FAITH   HEALER  15 

MlCHAELIS. 

I  went  away,  south,  into  the  mountains,  and  got 
work  on  a  sheep  range.  I  was  a  shepherd  for  five 

years. 

RHODA. 

And  since  then  ? 

MlCHAELIS. 

Hesitates. 

Since  then  I  have — wandered  about,  working  here 

and  there  to  earn  enough  to  live  on. 

RHODA. 

I  understand  well  why  men  take  up  that  life.   I 
should  love  it  myself. 

MlCHAELIS. 

I  did  n't  do  it  because  I  loved  it. 

RHODA. 
Why,  then? 

Michaelis  remains  silent.    She  looks  at  him,  puzzled. 
A  bell  tinkles,  left. 

MlCHAELIS. 

As  if  relieved. 

Was  n't  that  your  aunt's  bell  ? 


16  THE  FAITH   HEALER         [ACT  I 

Rhoda  goes  out  by  the  hall  door.  Michaelis  remains 
looking  at  the  map.  Martha  enters  from  the  kitchen, 
carrying  a  steaming  coffee-pot  and  a  platter  of  smok 
ing  meaty  which  she  places  on  the  table.  Michaelis, 
turning,  bows  to  her. 

MARTHA. 

Snappishly. 

Hope  you  slept  well ! 

She  goes  to  the  outer  door,  rings  the  breakfast  bell 
loudly,  and  exit  to  kitchen.  Rhoda  enters,  wheeling 
Mrs.  Beeler  in  an  invalid-chair.  Mrs.  Beeler  is  a 
woman  of  forty,  slight  of  body,  with  hair  just  begin 
ning  to  silver.  Her  face  has  the  curious  refinement 
which  physical  suffering  sometimes  brings,  and  is  lit 
up  by  the  inward  radiance,  like  a  lamp  kindled  be 
hind  the  veil  of  flesh,  which  often  marks  the  mystic 
and  the  devotee.  Annie  lingers  at  the  door,  looking 
timidly  at  Michaelis  as  he  approaches  Mrs.  Beeler 
and  takes  her  hand  from  the  arm  of  the  chair. 

MICHAELIS. 
You  are  better? 

MRS.  BEELER. 
Speaks  with  low  intensity. 
Much,  much  better. 


ACT  I]         THE  FAITH   HEALER  17 

He  puts  her  hand  gently  back  on  the  chair  arm.  Mar 
tha  enters  with  other  dishes.  She  pours  out  coffee, 
putting  a  clip  at  each  place.  Mr.  Beeler  has  entered 
from  the  kitchen,  and  the  boy  from  outside.  Beeler, 
with  a  glance  of  annoyance  at  his  wife  and  Michaelis, 
sits  down  at  the  head  of  the  table.  Rhoda  piishes 
Mrs.  Beeler  s  chair  to  the  foot  of  the  table,  and  stands 
feeding  her,  eating  her  own  breakfast  meanwhile. 
Michaelis  sits  at  Mrs.  Beeler  s  left,  and  the  boy  at 
Mr.  Beeler  s  right,  Martha  opposite.  Martha  beckons 
to  Annie  to  come  to  the  table,  but  the  child,  eyeing  the 
strangers,  refuses,  taking  a  chair  behind  her  mother 
by  the  mantelpiece. 

MRS.  BEELER. 
After  a  moment 's  silence. 
Mat,  you  have  n't  said  good-morning  to  our  guest 

BEELER. 
Gruffly. 
How  are  you  ? 

He  helps  himself  to  the  meat  and  passes  it  to  the  others  : 
the  plate  goes  round  the  table.  There  is  a  constrained 
silence.  Annie  tugs  at  Rhoda' s  skirt,  and  asks  in 
dumb  show  to  have  her  breakfast  given  her.  Rhoda 


i8  THE  FAITH   HEALER         [ACT  I 

fills  the  child 's  plate,  with  which  she  retreats  to  her 
chair  by  the  mantel. 

MRS.  BEELER. 

Why  does  n't  Annie  come  to  the  table  ? 
She  tries  to  look  round. 

RHODA. 

Whispers  to  Mrs.  Beeler,  who  subsides,  after  a  puzzled 
look.  Another  silence,  during  which  Rhoda  urges 
Mrs.  Beeler  to  eat. 

Do  eat  something,  Auntie. 

MRS.  BEELER. 

I  '11  drink  a  little  more  tea. 
Rhoda  raises  the  cup  to  Mrs.  Beeler1  s  lips. 

BEELER. 
You  can't  live  on  tea,  Mary. 

MARTHA. 

I  guess  she  can  live  on  tea  better  than  on  some 
things. 

With  a  resentful  glance  at  Michaelis,  who,  after  pre 
tending  to  eat,  sits  gazing  at  his  plate  abstractedly. 


ACT  I]         THE  FAITH   HEALER  19 

Some  things  that  some  folks  seem  to  live  on,  and 

expect  other  folks  to  live  on. 

Michaelis  looks  up,  and  begins  to  busy  himself  with 
his  breakfast,  embarrassed.  Beeler  nods  at  Martha 
in  covert  approval,  as  she  takes  up  dishes  and  goes 
into  the  kitchen. 

MRS.  BEELER. 

Leans  forward  across  the  table  to  Michaelis. 
Don't  mind  my  sister-in-law,  Mr.  Michaelis.    It's 
her  way.   She  means  nothing  by  it. 

BEELER. 
Hotly. 

Don't  know  as  you  've  got  any  call  to  speak  for 
Martha.  She  generally  means  what  she  says,  and 
I  guess  she  means  it  now.  And  what's  more,  I 
guess  I  do  too  ! 

MRS.  BEELER. 
Beseechingly. 

Mat! 

BEELER. 

Throws  down  his  napkin  and  rises. 

Very  well.  It 's  none  of  my  business,  I  reckon,  as 

long  as  it  keeps  within  reason. 

He  goes  out  through  the  kitchen.  Mrs.  Beeler  leans  over 
her  plate  ;  the  others  bow  their  heads. 


20  THE  FAITH   HEALER        [ACT  I 

MRS.  BEELER. 

Bless  this  food  to  our  use,  and  this  day  to  our 
strength  and  our  salvation. 

RHODA. 
As  they  lift  their  heads. 

Perhaps  it  will  be  light  enough  now  without  the 
lamp. 

Michaelis  rolls  up  the  shades,  while  Rhoda  extinguishes 
the  lamp.  The  fog  is  still  thicky  and  the  light  which 
enters  is  dull.  Rhoda  unpins  the  napkin  from  her 
aunt's  breast,  and  wheels  her  back  from  the  table. 
The  boy  crouches  down  by  the  grate,  Indian  fashion. 

MRS.  BEELER. 
Gazing  out,  from  where  she  sits  reclining. 

The  blessed  sun.   I  never  thought  to  see  it  rise 
again  so  beautiful. 

RHODA. 

Looks  at  her  aunt,  puzzled  and  alarmed. 
But,  Auntie,  there  is  n't  any  — 

She  breaks  off,  seeing  Michaelis  place  his  finger  on  his 
lip  as  a  signal  for  her  to  be  silent.  Mrs.  Beeler  con 
tinues  after  a  moment. 


ACT  I]         THE  FAITH   HEALER  21 

MRS.  BEELER. 
Dreamily. 

Another  day.  —  And  to-morrow  the  best  of  all 
days  of  the  year. 

ANNIE. 

From  her  seat  behind,  where,  since  finishing  her  break 
fast,  she  has  sat  staring,  fascinated,  at  the  strangers. 

What  day  is  to-morrow  ? 

MRS.  BEELER. 
Come  here,  Annie. 
The  child  approaches  timidly. 

ANNIE. 

At  her  mother's  side. 
What  day  is  to-morrow  ? 

MRS.  BEELER. 
With  exaltation  in  her  voice. 
To-morrow  is  Easter. 

ANNIE. 
Can  I  have  some  eggs  to  color  ? 


22  THE  FAITH   HEALER        [ACT  I 

MRS.  BEELER. 
Ask  Aunt  Martha. 

ANNIE. 

Sing-song,  as  she  skips  out. 
Eggs  to  color !  Eggs  to  color ! 

Rhoda  has  meanwhile  fetched  a  large  tray  from  the 
stair  cupboard,  and  has  been  piling  the  dishes  noise 
lessly  upon  it. 

RHODA. 
Shall  I  wheel  you  in,  Aunt  Mary  ? 

MRS.  BEELER. 
Yes,  please. 

Rhoda  wheels  the  chair  toward  the  hall  door,  which 
Michaelis  opens.  Mrs.  Beeler  gazes  at  him  as  she 
passes. 

Will  you  come  in  soon,  and  sit  with  me  ?  There  is 

so  much  that  I  want  to  hear. 

MICHAELIS. 
Whenever  you  are  ready. 


ACT  I]         THE  FAITH   HEALER  23 

MRS.  BEELER. 
I  will  ring  my  bell. 

As  they  go  out,  Martha  bustles  in,  gathers  up  the  dish- 
tray  and  is  about  to  depart,  with  a  vindictive  look. 
At  the  door  she  turns ,  and  jerks  her  he  ad  toward  the 
boy. 

MARTHA. 

Is  it  against  the  law  to  work,  where  he  comes  from  ? 

MlCHAELIS. 

Abstractedly. 
What?— No. 

MARTHA. 

Then  he  might  as  well  do  me  some  chores.  Not 
but  right,  payin'  only  half  board. 

MlCHAELIS. 

To  the  boy. 

Do  whatever  she  tells  you. 

The  boy  follows  Martha  out.  Michaelis  takes  a  Testa 
ment  from  his  pocket  and  turns  the  leaves.  As  Rhoda 
reentersy  he  looks  up,  keeping  a  finger  in  the  book. 
He  speaks  significantly y  with  suppressed  excitement. 

She  saw  the  sun ! 


24  THE  FAITH   HEALER        [ACT  i 

RHODA. 
Poor  dear  Auntie ! 

MlCHAELIS. 

You  pity  her  ? 

RHODA. 

After  an  instant's  silence ',  during  which  she  ponders  her 
reply. 

I  think  I  envy  her. 

She  removes  the  cloth  from  the  table,  and  begins  deftly 
to  put  the  room  in  order.  Michaelis  watches  her  with 
a  kind  of  vague  intentness. 

MICHAELIS. 
How  long  did  you  say  she  had  been  sick  ? 

RHODA. 
More  than  four  years.  —  Nearly  five. 

MICHAELIS. 
She  has  never  walked  in  that  time? 


ACT  I]         THE  FAITH   HEALER  25 

RHODA. 

Shakes  her  head. 
Nor  used  her  right  hand,  either. 

MICHAELIS. 
With  intensity. 
Are  you  certain  ? 

RHODA. 

Surprised  at  his  tone. 
Yes  —  I  have  n't  lived  here  long,  but  I  am  certain. 

MICHAELIS. 
She  has  tried  medicine,  doctors  ? 

RHODA. 

Uncle  has  spent  everything  he  could  earn  on 
them.  She  has  been  three  times  to  the  mineral 
baths,  once  as  far  as  Virginia. 

MICHAELIS. 

Looks  at  the  open  Testament  in  his  hand. 
But  never  as  far  as  Bethesda. 


26  THE  FAITH   HEALER         [ACT  I 

RHODA. 
Bethesda?   Where  is  that? 

MlCHAELIS. 

Reads  in  a  low  voice. 

"  Now  there  was  at  Jerusalem  a  pool,  which  is 
called  Bethesda,  having  five  porches.  .  .  .  And  an 
angel  went  down  at  a  certain  season  into  the  pool, 
and  troubled  the  waters.  Whosoever  then  first 
after  the  troubling  of  the  waters  stepped  in,  he 
was  made  whole  of  whatsoever  disease  he  had." 

He  closes  the  book. 

RHODA. 

If  anybody  could  find  the  way  there  again,  it 
would  be  Aunt  Mary. 

Pause. 

—  And  if  anybody  could  show  her  the  way,  it 
would  be  —  you. 

She  goes  on  in  a  different  tone,  as  if  to  escape  from  the 
embarrassment  of  her  last  speech. 

—  Her  saying  just  now  she  saw  the  sun.  She  often 
says  things  like  that.   Have  you  noticed  ? 


ACT  I]         THE  FAITH   HEALER  27 

MlCHAELIS. 

Yes. 

RHODA. 
With  hesitation. 

Her  brother  Seth,  the  one  who  died.  —  Has  she 
told  you  about  him  ? 

MlCHAELIS. 

Yes. 

RHODA. 
What  she  thinks  happens  —  since  —  he  died  ? 

Michaelis  nods  assent. 

And  yet  in  all  other  ways  her  mind  is  perfectly 
clear. 

MlCHAELIS. 

Perhaps  in  this  way  it  is  clearer  still. 

RHODA. 
Startled. 

You  mean  that  maybe  she  really  does  see  her 
brother  ? 

MlCHAELIS. 

That  is  what  I  mean. 


28  THE  FAITH  HEALER        [ACT  I 

RHODA. 

It  would  make  the  world  a  very  different — a  very 
strange  place,  if  that  were  true. 

MICHAELIS. 
The  world  is  a  very  strange  place. 

He  has  paused  before  the  wall  map  and  is  gazing  at 
it.  Rhoda>  after  a  silence  during  which  she  gathers 
courage,  speaks  impulsively. 

RHODA. 
Why  do  you  keep  looking  at  that  map  ? 

MICHAELIS. 

Does  not  answer  at  first,  and  then  speaks  with  eyes 
still  on  the  map. 

I  must  go  away. 

RHODA. 

Impulsively. 

O,  not  yet ! 

MICHAELIS. 
My  time  is  short.  I  have  stopped  too  long  already. 


ACT  I]         THE  FAITH   HEALER  29 

RHODA. 
In  a  low  tone. 

Your  time  —  for  what  ? 

MlCHAELIS. 

To  fulfill  my  life. 

RHODA. 
As  before. 

Are  n't  you  doing  that  here  ? 

MlCHAELIS. 

Ttirns  to  her,  his  expression  changing  to  a  darkt  am 
biguous  intentness. 

No. 

Another  pause. 

Not  my  real  life. 

RHODA. 
Your  —  real  life  ? 

He  turns  away  and  walks  nervously  about  the  room, 
without  answering.  Rhoda  continues t  after  a  long 
pause. 

There  in  the  mountains,  when  you  were  a  shep 
herd  —  was  that  your  real  life  ? 


30  THE  FAITH   HEALER         [ACT  I 

MlCHAELIS. 

It  was  the  beginning  of  it. 

RHODA. 
With  hesitation. 

Won't  you  tell  me  a  little  about  that  time  ? 

MlCHAELIS. 

Begins  as  before,  hesitatingly,  but  again  gathers  inter 
est  swiftly  as  he  talks. 

I  was  alone,  with  the  world  spread  out,  beautiful, 
ghostly,  far  beneath.  In  the  fall  I  would  drive  the 
sheep  south,  through  the  great  basin  which  sloped 
down  into  Mexico,  and  in  the  spring  back  again 
to  the  mountains. 

RHODA. 
You  say  you  were  all  alone  ? 

MlCHAELIS. 

There  were  a  few  men  on  the  ranges,  but  they  were 
no  more  to  me  than  the  sheep  —  not  so  much. 

RHODA. 
Were  n't  you  dreadfully  lonely  ? 


ACT  I]         THE  FAITH   HEALER  31 

MlCHAELIS. 

No. 

RHODA. 
You  had  n't  even  any  books  to  read? 

MlCHAELIS. 

I  had  this  pocket  Bible,  that  had  been  my  father's. 
I  read  that  sometimes.  But  always  in  a  dream, 
without  understanding,  without  remembering. — 
Yet  there  came  a  time  when  whole  chapters  started 
up  in  my  mind,  as  plain  as  if  the  printed  page  were 
before  me,  and  I  understood  it  all,  both  the  outer 
meaning  and  the  inner. 

RHODA. 
And  you  did  n't  know  what  made  the  difference  ? 

MlCHAELIS. 

Yes. 

RHODA. 
What  was  it? 

MlCHAELIS. 

I  can't  tell  you  that. 


32  THE  FAITH   HEALER         [ACT  I 

RHODA. 
O,  yes! 

MlCHAELIS. 

There  are  no  words  to  tell  of  it. 

RHODA. 

Yet  tell  me.  I  need  to  know.  Believe  me,  I  need  to 
know ! 

MlCHAELIS. 

Slowly,  groping  for  his  words. 

It  was  one  morning  in  the  fourth  spring.  We  were 
back  in  the  mountains  again.  It  was  lambing  time, 
and  I  had  been  up  all  night.  Just  before  sunrise, 
I  sat  down  on  a  rock  to  rest.  Then  —  it  came. 

RHODA. 
What  came  ? 

He  does  not  answer. 
You  saw  something? 
He  nods  for  yes. 
What  was  it  ? 


ACT  I]         THE  FAITH   HEALER  33 

MlCHAELIS. 

Rises,  lifting  his  arms,  a  prey  to  uncontrollable  excite- 
ment. 

The  living  Christ!  —  Standing  before  me  on  the 
mountain,  amid  the  grazing  sheep.  —  With  these 
eyes  and  in  this  flesh,  I  saw  Him. 

Silence.  Mrs.  Beelers  bell  rings.  At  the  sound  his  ten 
sion  loosens ;  he  starts  toward  the  hall  door,  as  if 
relieved. 

RHODA. 

Following  him  to  the  door. 
You  had  fallen  asleep.  It  was  a  dream. 

MlCHAELIS. 

Shakes  his  head  in  negation. 

That  was  n't  all. 

The  bell  rings  again.  He  opens  the  door. 

RHODA. 
Will  you  tell  me  the  rest,  some  time  ? 


34  THE  FAITH   HEALER         [ACT  I 

MlCHAELIS. 

Hesitates. 
Perhaps. 

Exit.  She  looks  after  him  until  the  door  of  Mrs.  Beel- 
ers  room  is  heard  to  shut,  then  closes  the  hall  door 
and  stands  in  thought. 

CURTAIN 


ACT  II 


ACT  II 

Two  hours  later.  Rhoda  sits  before  the  grate,  in  dreamy 
meditation.  Beeler,  who  has  just  come  in  from  the 
barn,  wears  an  old  fur  cap  and  holds  in  his  hands 
some  battered  harness,  an  awl,  twine,  and  wax,  which 
he  deposits  on  the  window-seat.  After  removing  his 
cap  and  filling  his  pipe,  he  picks  up  from  a  heap  of 
papers  on  the  table  a  large  colored  newspaper  sup 
plement,  which  he  unfolds  and  looks  at  with  relish. 

BEELER. 

These  Sunday  papers  do  get  up  fine  supplements. 
I  would  n't  take  money  for  that  picture. 

He  holds  it  up. 

RHODA. 

Looks  at  it  absently. 
What  does  it  mean? 

BEELER. 
Reads. 

"Pan  and  the  Pilgrim."  Guess  you  never  heard 
of  Pan,  did  you? 


38  THE  FAITH   HEALER        [ACT  n 

RHODA. 
Yes.  One  of  the  old  heathen  gods. 

BEELER. 

Call  him  heathen  if  you  like !  The  folks  that  wor 
shiped  him  thought  he  was  orthodox,  I  guess. 

He  pins  up  the  print,  which  represents  a  palmer  of  cru 
sading  times,  surprised  in  the  midst  of  a  forest  by 
the  god  Pan. 

BEELER. 

As  he  takes  off  his  coat,  and  sits  down  to  mend  the 
harness. 

Rhody,  ain't  this  religious  business  rather  a  new 
thing  with  you  ?  Up  there  in  St.  Louis,  did  n't  go 
in  for  it  much  up  there,  did  you  ? 

RHODA. 
Looks  at  him  quickly. 

Why  do  you  ask  that? 

BEELER. 

O,  I  gathered,  from  things  I  heard,  that  you  cared 
more  about  dancin'  than  about  pray  in',  up  there. 

She  turns  away.  He  continues  after  a  meditative  pause. 


ACT  II]        THE  FAITH   HEALER  39 

When  I  first  saw  you  on  your  father's  farm  out 
in  Kansas,  you  was  as  wild  a  little  gypsy  as  I 
ever  set  eyes  on.  I  said  then  to  your  dad,  "  There 's 
a  filly  that  '11  need  a  good  breakin'."  I  never 
thought  I  'd  see  you  takin'  up  with  these  gospel- 
peddlers. 

He  continues  after  working  a  moment  in  silence. 

Michaelis.  —  Foreigner,  ain't  he  ?  Sounds  Russian- 
like. 

RHODA. 

I  believe  his  father's  people  came  from  some  place 
over  there. 

Martha  comes  in  from  hall  and  fusses  about,  dusting, 
etc.    She  points  in  the  direction  of  Mrs.  Beeler's  room. 

MARTHA. 

They  're  prayer-meetin'  it  again.  And  Mary  lyin' 
there  as  if  she  saw  the  pearly  gates  openin'  before 
her  eyes. 

BEELER. 

Half  to  himself,  as  he  works. 
Poor  Mary !  — Mary  's  a  strange  woman. 


40  THE  FAITH   HEALER       [ACT  n 

MARTHA. 
To  Rhoda. 

Your  mother  was  the  same  way,  Rhody.  The 
whole  Beardsley  tribe,  for  that  matter.  But  Mary 
was  the  worst.  It  begun  with  Mary  as  soon  as  her 
brother  Seth  got  drowned. 

BEELER. 
Looks  tip,  angry. 
None  of  that,  Sis ! 

MARTHA. 
I  guess  my  tongue 's  my  own. 

BEELER. 

No,  it  ain't.  I  won't  have  any  more  of  that  talk 
around  me,  do  you  hear  ?  I  put  my  foot  down  a 
year  ago. 

MARTHA. 
Points  at  his  foot  derisively. 

It 's  big  enough  and  ugly  enough,  Heaven  knows, 
but  you  can  put  it  down  as  hard  as  you  like,  it 
won't  keep  a  man's  sperrit  in  his  grave  —  not  when 
he 's  a  mind  to  come  out ! 


ACT  II]        THE  FAITH   HEALER  41 

BEELER. 
Astonished. 
Martha  Beeler ! 

MARTHA. 
That 's  my  name. 

She  flounces  out  into  the  kitchen,  covering  her  retreat 
with  her  last  speech. 

BEELER. 
Looking  after  her. 

My  kingdom !  Martha !  I  thought  she  had  some 
horse  sense  left. 

RHODA. 
Slowly,  as  she  rises  from  her  seat  before  the  fire. 

Uncle,  it's  hard  to  live  side  by  side  with  Aunt  Mary 
and  not  — 

She  breaks  off. 

BEELER. 

In  angry  challenge. 
And  not  what? 


42  THE  FAITH   HEALER       [ACT  n 

RHODA. 

And  not  believe  there 's  something  more  in  these 
matters  than  " horse  sense"  will  account  for. 

BEELER. 

Hotly,  as  if  a  sore  point  had  been  touched  iipon. 
There 's  nothing  more  than  science  will  account  for. 
He  points  to  the  shelf  of  books. 

You  can  read  it  up  any  day  you  like.  Read  that 
book  yonder,  chapter  called  Hallucinations.  Patho 
logical,  that 's  what  it  is,  pathological  1 

RHODA. 

What  does  that  mean  ? 
Beeler  taps  his  forehead  significantly. 

RHODA. 
Shocked. 

Uncle,  you  know  that 's  not  true ! 

BEELER. 
Growls  to  himself. 

Pathological,  up  and  down. 

Martha  opens  the  kitchen  door  and  calls  in. 


ACT  II]        THE  FAITH   HEALER  43 

MARTHA. 
Here 's  Uncle  Abe ! 

BEELER. 
Uncle  Abe  ?  Thought  he  was  a  goner. 

Uncle  Abe  enters.  He  is  an  old  negro,  with  gray  hair 
and  thin  gray  beard.  He  is  somewhat  bowed,  and 
carries  a  stick,  but  is  not  decrepit.  His  clothes  are 
spattered  with  mud.  Martha  enters  with  him ;  she 
is  stirring  something  in  a  bowl,  and  during  the  fol 
lowing  continues  to  do  so,  though  more  and  more 
interruptedly  and  absent-mindedly. 

BEELER. 
Hello,  Uncle  Abe. 

UNCLE  ABE. 
Good-mawnin',  Mista'  Beeler. 

BEELER. 

Where  've  you  been  all  winter  ?  Thought  you  'd 
gone  up  Salt  River. 

UNCLE  ABE. 
Shakes  his  head  reassuringly. 

Am'  nevah  goin'  up  no  Salt  River,  yo'  Uncle  Abe 
ain't. 


44  THE  FAITH   HEALER        [ACT  II 

BEELER. 
Indicating  Rhoda. 

Make  you  acquainted  with  my  wife 's  niece,  Miss 
Williams. 

Uncle  Abe  bows. 

RHODA. 
Pushing  forward  a  chair. 

Sit  down,  Uncle.    I  don't  see  how  you  found  your 
way  in  this  dreadful  fog. 

UNCLE  ABE. 

Fawg  don'  matta'  nothin'  to  me,  honey.  Don'  mean 
nothin'  'tall. 

He  speaks  with  exaltation  and  restrained  excitement. 

Yo'  oF  Uncle  keeps  on  tellin'  'em,  dis  hyah  fawg 
an'  darkness  don'  mean  nothin'  't  all ! 

Rhoda  and  Martha  look  at  him,  pttzzled. 

BEELER. 
Has  not  been  struck  by  the  old  negro  s  words. 

How 's  the  ginseng  crop  this  year  ? 


ACT  II]        THE  FAITH   HEALER  45 

UNCLE  ABE. 
Solemnly. 

They  ain'  no'  mo'  gimsing ! 

BEELER. 
No  more  ginseng  ?  What  do  you  mean  ? 

UNCLE  ABE. 

De  good  Lawd,  he  ain'  goin'  fool  roun'  no'  mo' 
wif  no  gimsing ! 

BEELER. 
Amused. 

Why,  I  thought  your  ginseng  bitters  was  His  main 
holt. 

UNCLE  ABE. 

With  a  touch  of  regret. 

Use  to  be,  Mars'  Beeler.  It  shore  use  to  be.  —  Yes, 
sah.  Bless  de  Lawd  — 

Shakes  his  head  in  reminiscence. 

He  sartinly  did  set  sto'  by  them  thah  bitters. 

BEELER. 

With  lazy  amusement. 
So  the  Lord 's  gone  back  on  ginseng  now,  has  He  ? 


46  THE  FAITH   HEALER       [ACT  n 

UNCLE  ABE. 
Yes,  sah. 

BEELER. 
What  makes  you  think  so? 

UNCLE  ABE. 
Solemnly. 
Roots  all  kill  by  de  fros' ! 

His  manner  grows  more  and  more  mysterious  ;  he  half 
closes  his  eyes,  as  he  goes  on  in  a  strange,  mounting 
sing-song. 

Knowed  it  more  Jn  a  monf  ago,  fo'  dis  hyah  blin' 
worF  lef  de  plow  in  de  plow-share  an'  de  un- 
groun'  wheat  betwixen  de  mill-stones,  and  went 
a-follerin'  aftah  dis  new  star  outen  de  Eas',  like  a 
bride  follerin'  aftah  de  bridegroom ! 

Rhoda  looks  at  the  others.  Martha  taps  her  forehead 
significantly,  and  goes  back  to  her  batter. 

BEELER. 

New  star,  Uncle  ?  Tell  us  about  it.  Sounds  inter 
esting. 


ACT  II]        THE  FAITH   HEALER  47 

UNCLE  ABE. 

Stares  at  each  of  them  in  turn. 
Ain'  you-all  heerd? 

BEELER. 
You  've  got  the  advantage  of  us. 

UNCLE  ABE. 
Ain'  you-all  heerd  'bout  de  Healer? 

BEELER. 
Healer  ?  What  kind  of  a  healer  ? 

UNCLE  ABE. 
With  mounting  indignation  at  Mr.  Heeler's  tone. 

De  Bible  kin',  that's  what  kin'!  De  kin'  what 
makes  de  lame  fer  to  walk,  an'  de  blin'  fer  to  see, 
an'  de  daid  fer  to  riz  up  outen  their  daid  col' 
graves.  That 's  what  kin' !  Mean  to  say  you-all 
am'  heerd  nothin'  'bout  him,  you  po'  chillun  o' 
dawkness  ? 

All  look  at  each  other  in  amazement. 


48  THE  FAITH   HEALER       [ACT  II 

BEELER. 
Nope. 

Recollecting. 
Hold  on ! 

RHODA. 
Deeply  agitated,  to  Beeler. 

Don't  you  remember,  in  the  papers,  two  or  three 
weeks  ago?  Where  was  it?  —  Somewhere  out 
West. 

BEELER. 

Believe  I  did  read  some  such  goin's-on.  Don't 
pay  much  attention  to  such  nonsense. 

UNCLE  ABE. 
Solemn  and  threatening. 

Tek  keer,  Mista'  Beeler !  Tek  keer  what  you  say 
'fore  dese  here  cloudy  witnesses.  Don'  you  go 
cuttin'  yo'self  off  from  de  Kingdom.  Nor  you,  Mis' 
Martha,  nor  you,  honey.  Don'  ye  do  it !  It 's 
a-comin'.  Yo'  ol'  Uncle  Abe  he's  seen  and  heerd. 

RHODA. 
Tell  us  quickly  what  you  mean. 


ACT  II]       THE  FAITH   HEALER  49 

UNCLE  ABE. 

Mean  jes'  what  I  says,  honey.  Night  fo'  last,  de 
Healer,  he  come,  like 's  if  he  jes'  plum'  drop  from 
de  sky. 

More  mysteriously. 

An'  whar  's  he  gone  to  ?  You  listen  to  yo'  oP  Uncle 
Abe  a-tellin'  you.  He  ain'  gone  nowhars !  He 's 
jes'  meechin'  roun'  in  de  fawg,  a-waitin'  fer  de 
Lawd  to  call  folks.  En  He 's  a-callin'  'em!  He's 
a-callin'  'em  by  tens  an'  by  hunderds.  Town  's  full 
a' ready,  honey.  Main  Street  look  jes'  lak  a  fieF 
hospital,  down  Souf,  durin'  de  wah ! 

Beeler,  Rhoda,  and  Martha  look  at  one  another  in  as 
tonished  silence. 

MARTHA. 
Meeting  Beeler' s  look. 

What  did  I  tell  you  ?  Maybe  you  '11  listen  to  me, 
next  time. 

RHODA. 

To  Uncle  Abe,  in  a  low,  frightened  voice. 
This  man  vou  call  the  Healer — is  he  alone? 


50  THE  FAITH   HEALER       [ACT  II 

UNCLE  ABE. 

No,  honey.  Folks  says  he  don'  nevah  go  nowheres 
by  hisse'f.  Always  got  thah  young  man  wif  'im 
what  he  raise  from  de  daid. 

Silence. 

BEELER. 
With  a  shrug. 
Good-evening ! 
He  turns  to  the  portraits  of  Darwin  and  Spencer. 

You  made  quite  a  stir  in  your  time,  did  n't  you  ? 
Well,  it 's  all  up  with  you ! 

RHODA. 

In  a  low  voice,  to  the  negro. 
Raised  from  the  dead  ? 

UNCLE  ABE. 

That 's  what  they  says,  honey.  Calls  hisse'f  Laz'rus, 
in  refence  to  de  Bible  chiF  what  riz  up  jes'  same 
way  lak',  outen  de  daid  col'  tomb. 

The  Indian  boy  enters  from  the  kitchen,  his  shoes  and 
trousers  spattered  with  mud.  Uncle  A  be  looks  at  him, 
then  at  the  others,  and  whispers  to  Rhoda.  At  her 


ACT  II]       THE  FAITH   HEALER  51 

affirmative  nod,  he  rises  and  lifts  his  arms  ecstati 
cally.  Rhoda  restrains  him  from  speaking,  and  stands 
between  him  and  the  boy.  Martha  bustles  forward, 
hiding  her  agitation  in  scolding  speech. 

MARTHA. 

Well,  did  you  get  my  coffee  and  my  sal-soda  ? 
Lazarus  points •,  without  speaking,  to  the  kitchen. 

BEELER. 
To  Martha. 

Did  you  send  him  to  the  store  ? 

MARTHA, 

Yes,  I  did  send  him  to  the  store.    If  I  had  my  way, 
I  Jd  send  him  —  further  1 

Lazarus  hesitates,  then  goes  stolidly  out  by  the  stair 
door.  Uncle  Abe  says  something  in  an  awestruck 
whisper  to  Rhoda.  She  nods,  raising  her  hand  re- 
strainingly. 

UNCLE  ABE. 
O  Lawd,  bless  dis  hyar  house  o'  grace ! 


52  THE  FAITH   HEALER       [ACT  n 

BEELER. 
Rising. 

I  guess  it 's  about  time  he  came  out  and  exploded 
some  of  this  tomfoolery. 

RHODA. 
Stopping  him. 

Please  don't ! 

BEELER. 
Peevishly. 

There  's  got  to  be  an  end  to  this  hoodoo-business 
in  my  house. 

Annie  enters  from  the  kitchen,  dabbled  with  dye.  She 
holds  two  colored  eggs  in  her  hands. 

ANNIE. 
Look  I  I  Ve  colored  two. 

MARTHA. 
Good  gracious,  child.  What  a  mess ! 

ANNIE. 
Runs  to  her  father. 

Pa !  Play  crack  with  me  !  Just  once,  to  see  how  it 
goes. 


ACT  II]       THE  FAITH   HEALER  53 

BEELER. 
Go  in  and  ask  your  mother  if  she  '11  let  you. 

Annie,  her  eggs  in  her  apron,  opens  the  hall  door. 
About  to  pass  out,  she  stops,  and  drops  the  eggs  with 
a  scream. 

ANNIE. 

Pa !  Auntie !  Ma 's  walking  ! 

Mrs.  Beeler  enters,  walking  uncertainly,  her  face  full 
of  intense  exaltation.  Michaelis  comes  just  behind 
her,  transfigured  by  spiritual  excitement. 

BEELER  and  MARTHA. 
Starting  forward. 

Mary! 

RHODA. 
Aunt  Mary ! 

Mrs.  Beeler  advances  into  the  room,  reaching  out  her 
hand  to  Annie,  who  takes  it  in  speechless  fright. 
She  bends  over  and  kisses  the  child's  head,  then 
stretches  out  her  other  hand  to  her  husband. 

MRS.  BEELER. 

Mat,  I'm  cured !  The  Lord  has  heard  our  prayers, 
for  his  saint's  sake. 


54  THE  FAITH   HEALER       [ACT  II 

BEELER. 

Why,  Mary,  I  can't  believe  this.    It's  too — it's 
not  possible ! 
He  kisses  her. 

MRS.  BEELER. 
Looking  at  Michaelis. 

It  is  written  that  he  who  has  faith  even  as  a  grain 
of  mustard  seed — .  I  have  had  faith. 

MARTHA. 

Law,  you  've  had  faith  enough  any  time  these  five 
years,  Mary.  There  was  something  else  wanting, 
'pears  to  me. 

MRS.  BEELER. 

There  was  wanting  the  word  of  the  Lord,  saying, 
"  Suffer  no  more  !  Stoop  and  drink  of  the  waters 
of  mercy  and  healing." 

MARTHA. 
Sotto  voce. 

Well,  you  could  knock  me  down  with  a  feather  1 

MRS.  BEELER. 
Moves  her  hand  vaguely. 

I  '11  go  back  now,  Mat.  I  'm  a  little  weak  and  dizzy 
yet. 


ACT  II]       THE  FAITH   HEALER  55 

Beeler  and  the  others,  except  Michaelis,  move  toward 
the  door.  On  the  threshold,  Mrs.  Beeler  turns  and 
looks  at  Michaelis,  who  stands  with  excited  face  and 
radiant  eyes  beside  the  table.  She  then  looks  at  her 
husband,  smiling. 

BEELER. 

Kissing  her  forehead. 
Forgive  me,  Mary.   I  guess  I  Ve  been  a  fool. 

MRS.  BEELER. 

In  the  door,  to  Rhoda,  indicating  Michaelis. 
Tell  him.   Thank  him.   I  can't. 

The  rest  go  out,  leaving  Rhoda  and  Michaelis  alone. 
She  stands  silent,  unable  to  voice  her  emotion. 

MICHAELIS. 

With  uncontrollable  excitement,  points. 
You  saw  her  walk  in  that  door,  and  out  again ! 

RHODA. 

I  did,  I  did ! 

MICHAELIS. 

The  Lord  is  with  me.  He  has  not  withdrawn  His 
face  from  me. 


56  THE  FAITH   HEALER       [ACT  II 

RHODA. 

How  can  you  even  think  such  a  thing,  when  He 
has  just  poured  out  His  power  upon  you? 

MICHAELIS. 

With  nervous  exaltation. 
Has  He  not?  Has  He  not? 

RHODA. 

O,  so  wonderfully !  Not  to  be  spoken  about,  only 
believed  in  silence.  — 

Pause.  She  goes  on  with  excited  hesitation. 

And  now,  after  what  we  've  seen  this  morning,  and 
what  we  Ve  heard ! 

MICHAELIS. 
Startled. 

Heard  ?  —  What  have  you  heard  ? 

RHODA. 

Such  strange  and  wonderful  things.  —  Such  beau 
tiful  and  terrible  things. 

MICHAELIS. 
What  have  you  heard  ?  — 


ACT  II]       THE  FAITH   HEALER  57 

She  does  not  ansiver  ;  he  comes  nearer. 
Has  that  boy  been  talking  ? 

RHODA. 
In  a  low  voice. 

Tell  me  I  may  believe  it !  —  Is  it  true  ? 

He  turns  away.  She  follows  him,  and  speaks  after  a 
long  silence. 

Tell  me  all,  from  the  beginning. 

Another  pause. 

What  happened  to  you,  after — after  that  morning 
in  the  mountains  ? 

MlCHAELIS. 

Begins  to  talk  slowly  and  rehictantly,  but  soon,  as  if 
hypnotized  by  the  memories  evoked,  his  manner  be- 
comes  eager,  confident,  and  impassioned. 

I  lived  straight  ahead,  with  the  sheep,  for  two 
years. 

RHODA. 
Hesitating. 

Did  you  ever  see  anything  again  ? 


58  THE  FAITH   HEALER        [ACT  II 

MlCHAELIS. 

No.  —  But  twice  —  I  heard  a  voice. 

RHODA. 
What  kind  of  a  voice  ? 

MlCHAELIS. 

The  first  time  it  came  at  night.  I  was  walking  on 
the  top  of  the  mountain,  in  a  stony  place.  It  —  it 
was  like  a  wind  among  the  stones. 

RHODA. 
What  did  it  say  ? 

MlCHAELIS. 

It  said,  "  Prepare  !  Prepare  I " 

RHODA. 
And  the  second  time  ? 

MlCHAELIS. 

In  the  same  place,  at  dawn.  The  voice  said,  "  Go 
forth,  it  is  finished  ! "  I  looked  round  me  and  saw 


ACT  II]       THE  FAITH   HEALER  59 

nothing-.  Then  it  came  again,  like  a  wind  among 
the  stones,  "  Go  forth,  it  is  begun  ! " 

RHODA. 
And  you  obeyed  ? 

MlCHAELIS. 

I  plucked  a  dry \seed-pod  from  among  the  stones, 
and  threw  the  seeds  into  the  air.  They  drifted 
north.  Then  I  found  a  man  to  take  my  place,  and 
started  north,  in  the  direction  the  seeds  had  drifted. 
Three  days  after,  I  climbed  the  mesa  toward  my 
old  home.  Above,  in  the  pueblo,  I  heard  the  sound 
of  tom-toms  and  wailing  squaws.  They  told  me 
that  the  young  son  of  the  chief  lay  dead  in  my 
father's  chapel.  I  sat  beside  him  all  day  and  all 
night.  Just  before  daylight  — 

He  breaks  off  abruptly. 

RHODA. 
Go  on. 

MlCHAELIS. 

Just  before  daylight,  when  the  other  watchers  were 
asleep,  the  power  of  the  spirit  came  strong  upon 
me.  I  bowed  myself  upon  the  boy's  body,  and 


-6o  THE  FAITH   HEALER       [ACT  n 

prayed.  My  heart  burned  within  me,  for  I  felt  his 
heart  begin  to  beat !  His  eyes  opened.  I  told  him 
to  arise,  and  he  arose.  He  that  was  dead  arose  and 
was  alive  again ! 

Pause. 

That  was  five  years  ago.    He  has  been  with  me 
ever  since. 
Long  pause. 

RHODA. 

We  have  all  been  searching,  and  you  alone  have 
found.  —  When  I  think  what  I  was  a  week  ago, 
and  what  the  world  seemed  like,  and  how  your 
words  —  the  very  sight  of  your  face  —  changed 
everything  in  life  and  death  for  me  — 

She  breaks  off",  frightened  by  the  passion  of  his  face,  as 
he  leans  toward  her. 

MICHAELIS. 
Huskily. 

The  sight  —  of  my  face  ? 

RHODA. 

Shrinking,  but  in  a  steady  voice. 
Many  people,  men  and  women,  must  have  told  you 
the  same. 


ACT  II]       THE  FAITH   HEALER  61 

MlCHAELIS. 

With  passionate  abandon. 

Why  do  you  bring  in  the  others  ?  Why  do  you 
hide  yourself  in  a  crowd  of  others  ?  It 's  of  me  and 
you  we  are  talking ! 

Martha  opens  the  hall  door  and  calls. 

MARTHA. 
Rhody!  Rhody! 

RHODA. 
Going  toward  her. 

Yes? 

MARTHA. 

Come  here,  quick.   Your  aunt  wants  you. 

Rhoda  goes  out,  Martha  holding  the  door  open.  Mi- 
chaelis  follows  to  the  door,  and  as  Martha  starts  out, 
catches  hold  of  her  sleeve. 

MlCHAELIS. 

Mrs.  Beeler's  not — worse? 

MARTHA. 
Sourly. 

Not  yet. 


62  THE  FAITH   HEALER       [ACT  n 

She  shuts  the  door  abruptly  iipon  him.  Outside  at  a 
distance,  the  shrill  soprano  of  a  negro  woman  is 
faintly  heard,  taking  up  a  hymn.  At  the  sound  of 
the  music  MicJiaelis  turns  slowly  toward  the  win 
dow.  He  stands  rigid,  listening  to  the  hymn  to  the 
end  of  the  verse,  when  other  voices,  still  faint,  join 
in  the  chorus.  He  goes  to  the  window  and  looks, 
with  a  sort  of  painful  deliberation,  up  and  down 
the  road.  The  fog  has  partially  cleared.  The  stair 
door  opens.  Lazarus  enters  and  comes  softly  to  Mi- 
chaelis's  side. 

MICHAELIS. 
Turning. 

Who  are  they  ? 

LAZARUS. 
Sick  people. 

MICHAELIS. 
How  did  they  find  out  ? 

LAZARUS. 

With  a  vague,  wide  gestttre  of  the  hands. 
From  the  earth,  from  the  air. 


ACT  n]       THE  FAITH   HEALER  63 

Michaelis  looks  out  again.  There  is  a  moment's  silence. 
The  choms  of  the  hymn  is  taken  up,  nearer,  but  still 
muffled  by  distance. 

LAZARUS. 

Touching  his  master  s  shoulder. 
Come !   We  go  away. 

MICHAELIS. 

Looking  at  the  boy  vacantly. 
Where  ? 

LAZARUS. 

Back  to  the  desert.    Good  Spirit  don't  like  white 
man.   We  go  back.   This  is  bad  place.    Come  1 

He  tries  with  gentle  force  to  move  Michaelis,  but 
desists  as  the  hall  door  opens.  Mrs.  Beeler  enters, 
supported  by  her  husband  and  Rhoda.  Martha  comes 
just  behind,  with  Annie  clinging  fearfully  to  her 
skirts.  Mrs.  Beeler,  with  an  upward  gesture  of  her 
arms,  frees  herself  of  her  supporters,  and  advances 
alone  toward  Michaelis.  A  hymn  bursts  out,  nearer 
and  louder  than  before,  then  grows  quickly  fainter 
and  more  distant. 


64  THE  FAITH   HEALER       [ACT  n 

MRS.  BEELER. 
To  Michaelis. 

I  have  heard,   I  have  seen.   Your  great  hour  is  at 
hand. 

MicJiaelis  makes  an  ambiguous  gesture,  as  of  denial. 
She  comes  a  step  or  two  nearer. 

MRS.  BEELER. 
Gently. 
You  will  not  fail  them  ?  You  cannot  fail  them,  now  ? 

Michaelis  looks  at  Mrs.  Beeler,  then  for  a  still  longer 
time  at  Rhoda. 

MICHAELIS. 

No.  —  I  have  waited  so  long.    I  have  had  such 
deep  assurances.   I  must  not  fail.    I  must  not  fail. 

CURTAIN 


ACT  III 


ACT  III 

The  same  room,  late  afternoon  of  the  same  day.  Mrs, 
Beeler  sits  in  a  large  low  chair  near  the  window. 
She  has  ceased  reading,  the  Testament  lying  open  in 
her  lap.  Near  the  picture,  "  Pan  and  the  Pilgrim" 
sits  Uncle  Abe,  with  Annie  between  his  knees. 

ANNIE. 

Pointing  at  the  figure  of  Pan. 
And  who's  that? 

UNCLE  ABE. 
Glancing  at  Mrs.  Beeler. 

H'sh! 

ANNIE. 

What 's  he  doing  up  there  in  the  bushes,  blowing 
on  that  funny  whistle  ? 

UNCLE  ABE. 

Look  hyah,  chiP,  you  jes'  wastin'  my  time !  I  got 
f rough  wif  dis  hyah  fool  pictuh,  long  'go  1 

He  tries  to  draw  her  away ;  she  resists. 


68  THE  FAITH   HEALER       [ACT  III 

ANNIE. 
Petulantly. 

Uncle  Abe!  Who  is  it? 

UNCLE  ABE. 
Whispers,  makes  big  eyes. 

That  thah  's  Ole  Nick,  that 's  who  that  thah  is ! 
That  thah 's  de  Black  Man  ! 

Annie,  terror-stricken,  draws  away,  and  retreats  to  her 
mother  s  chair.  Mrs.  Beeler  rouses  from  her  revery. 

MRS.  BEELER. 
Strokes  her  child's  head. 

O,  my  child,  how  happy  you  are  to  see  this  while 
you  are  so  young  !  You  will  never  forget,  will  you, 
dear? 

ANNIE. 
Fidgeting. 

Forget  what  ? 

MRS.  BEELER. 

Tell  me  that  whatever  happens  to  you  in  the 
world,  you  won't  forget  that  once,  when  you  were 


ACT  in]      THE  FAITH   HEALER  69 

a  little  girl,  you  saw  the  Heavens  standing  open, 
and  felt  that  God  was  very  near  and  full  of  pity  for 
His  children. 

ANNIE. 

About  to  burst  into  tears. 

I  don't  know  what  you  're  talking  about !  I  can't 
hardly  breathe,  the  way  people  are  in  this  house. 

MRS.  BEELER. 
With  a  slight  sigh. 
Never  mind.    Run  out  to  Aunt  Martha. 

The  child  goes  into  the  kitchen,  singing  slyly,  with  re 
covered  cheerfulness. 

ANNIE. 

"  Mary  an'  a'  Martha 's  jus'  gone  along, 
Mary  an'  a'  Martha 's  jus'  gone  along, 
Mary  an'  a'  Martha 's  jus'  gone  along, 
Ring  dem  charmin'  bells." 

Mrs.  Beeler  begins  to  read  her  Testament.    The  old 
negro  speaks  mysteriously. 

UNCLE  ABE. 

That  thah  chiF  she 's  talkin'  sense.  They 's  sump- 
in'  am'  right  'bout  dis  hyah  house. 


70  THE  FAITH   HEALER      [ACT  III 

MRS.  BEELER. 
Not  right  ?  What  do  you  mean  ? 

UNCLE  ABE. 
Shakes  his  head  dubiously. 

Dunno,  Mis'  Beeler.  I 's  jes'  a  ole  fool  colored 
pusson  been  waitin'  fer  de  great  Day  what  de 
'Postle  done  promise.  En  hyah's  de  great  Day 
'bout  to  dawn,  an'  de  Lawd's  chosen  'bout  to 
show  hisse'f  in  clouds  o'  glory  'fore  de  worl', 
an'  lo  'n'  behol'  —  (Jie  leans  closer  and  whispers]  de 
Lawd's  Chosen  One,  he's  done  got  a  spell  on 
'im! 

MRS.  BEELER. 
Shocked  and  startled. 
Uncle  Abe ! 

UNCLE  ABE. 

Pointing  at  the  "  Pan  and  the  Pilgrim'' 
Why  you  keep  that  thah  pictuh  nail  up  thah  fur  ? 

MRS.  BEELER. 
My  husband  likes  it. 


ACT  ill]      THE  FAITH   HEALER  71 

UNCLE  ABE. 

Mighty  funny  kin'  o'  man,  like  to  hev  de  Black 
Man  lookin'  pop-eyed  at  folks  all  day  an'  all  night, 
puttin'  de  spell  on  folks  ! 

MRS.  BEELER. 
That's  not  the  Black  Man. 

UNCLE  ABE. 

That 's  him,  shore 's  yo'  born  !  Jes'  what  he  looks 
like.  I's  seen  'im,  more'n  once. 

MRS.  BEELER. 
Seen  the  Black  Man,  Uncle  ? 

UNCLE  ABE. 

Yais,  ma  am.  I 's  spied  'im,  sittin'  in  de  paw-paw 
bushes  in  de  spring-time,  when  de  snakes  a-runnin', 
an'  de  jays  a-hollerin',  and  de  crick  a-talkin'  sassy 
to  hisse'f. 

He  leans  nearer,  more  mysteriously. 

En  what  you  s'pose  I  heerd  him  whis'lin',  fur  all 
de  worP  lak  dem  scan'lous  blue-jays  ? 


72  THE  FAITH   HEALER      [ACT  in 

Chants  in  a  higk,  trilling-  voice. 

11  Chillun,  chillun,  they  ain'  no  Gawd,  they  ain'  no 
sin  nor  no  jedgment,  they  's  jes'  spring-time,  an' 
happy  days,  an'  folks  carry  in'  on  !  Whar  's  yo'  HI 
gal,  Abe  Johnson  ?  Whar 's  yo'  lil  sweet-heart  gal  ?  " 
—  An  me  on'y  got  religion  wintah  befo',  peekin' 
roun'  pie-eyed,  skeered  good.  En  'fo'  you  could  say 
"De  Lawd's  my  Shepherd,"  kerchunk  goes  de 
Black  Man  in  de  mud-puddle,  change'  into  a  big 
green  bull-frog ! 

MRS.  BEELER. 
You  just  imagined  all  that. 

UNCLE  ABE. 
Indignant. 

Jes'  'magine  !  Don'  I  know  de  Devil  when  I  sees 
him,  near  'nough  to  say  "  Howdy  "  ? 

MRS.  BEELER. 
There  is  n't  any  Devil. 

UNCLE  ABE. 
Astounded. 
Ain't  no  Devil  ? 


ACT  III]      THE  FAITH   HEALER  73 

MRS.  BEELER. 
Touching  her  breast. 
Only  here. 

The  old  negro  stares  at  her,  then  at  the  picture,  shaking 
his  head  dubiously.  Rhoda  enters  by  the  street  door, 
carrying  a  large  bunch  of  Easter  lilies. 

RHODA.  , 

Kissing  her  aunt. 

Still  sitting  up  !  You  're  not  strong  enough  yet  to 
do  this,  See,  I  've  brought  you  some  Easter  lilies. 

She  hands  one  to  Mrs.  Beeler  and  arranges  the  others 
in  a  vase  on  the  table. 

How  do  you  do,  Uncle  Abe  ? 

UNCLE  ABE. 
With  recovered  exaltation. 
I 's  awake  an'  a-watchin',  honey ! 

Uncle  Abe  goes  out  into  the  kitchen,  pausing  to  stoop 
over  the  lilies  and  smell  them,  with  shut  eyes. 

MRS.  BEELER. 
After  a  pause. 
Rhoda ! 


74  THE  FAITH   HEALER      [ACT  in 

RHODA. 

At  the  table,  arranging  flowers. 
What,  Aunt  Mary? 

MRS.  BEELER. 
Come  here. 

Rhoda  approaches. 
Closer.  Sit  here. 

She  draws  her  down  on  a  low  stool  beside  her  own 
chair. 

Rhoda ! 

RHODA. 

You  must  n't  excite  yourself.  You  must  keep  your 
strength. 

MRS.  BEELER. 

I  shall  be  strong  enough.  —  Are  the  people  still 
gathering  from  the  town? 

RHODA. 
Yes,  and  they  keep  coming  in  from  other  places. 

MRS.  BEELER. 
Are  there  many  of  them? 


ACT  ill]      THE  FAITH   HEALER  75 

RHODA. 
Many !  Many  !  —  It 's  as  if  the  whole  world  knew. 

MRS.  BEELER. 

The  more  there  are,  the  greater  will  be  the  witness. 
Pause. 
When  do  you  think  he  will  go  out  to  them  ? 

RHODA. 
They  believe  he  is  waiting  for  Easter  morning. 

MRS.  BEELER. 

Yes,  that  is  what  he  is  waiting  for.  Seth  has  told 
me. 

RHODA. 

Stares  at  her  in  frightened  interrogation. 
Who-o  ? 

MRS.  BEELER. 
My  dear  brother,  Seth. 

RHODA. 

Following  the  direction  of  her  gaze. 
Aunt  Mary !   There 's  nothing  there. 


76  THE  FAITH   HEALER      [ACT  ill 

MRS.  BEELER. 
Her  tension  relaxing. 
No.    He  's  gone  now. 

RHODA. 
Where  did  you  see  him  ? 

MRS.  BEELER. 
Points  with  the  lily. 
There,  beside  the  lilies. 
Pause. 

This  was  always  his  favorite  room.   I  see  him  here 
oftenest. 

She  caresses  Rhoda's  hair. 
Does  that  disturb  you? 

RHODA. 

Shakes  Jier  head. 

Not  much.   I  've  got  used  to  that.   It  is  n't  that. 
She  bows  her  head  on  the  arm  of  her  aunts  chair. 

MRS.  BEELER. 
What  is  it,  Rhoda? 


ACT  III]      THE  FAITH   HEALER  77 

RHODA. 
I  —  don't  know.    I  can't  tell  you. 

Mrs.  Beeler  draws  the  girl '  s  face  up  and  looks  at  it  in 
tently.    She  speaks  in  a  hesitating  way. 

MRS.  BEELER. 

Do  you  know,  Rhoda,  I  have  sometimes  thought — 
Pause. 
You  won't  be  hurt  ? 

RHODA. 

No. 

MRS.  BEELER. 

I  have  sometimes  thought  there  was  something 
about  you  which  — 

RHODA. 
You  must  tell  me. 

MRS.  BEELER. 

I  have  seen  him  (she  indicates  the  upper  room)  look  at 
you  so  strangely.  Like  —  like  the  pilgrim  there  in 
the  picture  (she points)  when  he  hears  that  heathen 
creature  playing  on  the  pipe. 


78  THE  FAITH   HEALER      [ACT  in 

The  girl,  avoiding  her  eyes,  draws  away,  rises,  takes 
the  lily  from  her  aunts  lap,  gathers  the  others  up 
from  the  table,  and  starts  toward  the  door. 

MRS.  BEELER. 
Vaguely  alarmed. 
What  are  you  doing  ? 

RHODA. 

Low,  passionately. 

I  am  going  to  throw  them  out.   They  stifle  me ! 

MRS.  BEELER. 

Rises,  with  a  horrified  expression. 
Rhoda! 

She  rescues  the  lilies,  and  replaces  them  in  the  vase. 
She  speaks  after  a  moment  of  painful  silence. 

So  you  are  going  to  be  against  him,  too ! 

RHODA. 
Mastering  her  excitement. 

No,  no !   I  meant  nothing  by  it.   Flowers  often 
affect  me  so. 

Mrs.  Beeler  looks  at  her,  troubled ;  then,  as  she  sinks 
exhausted  into  her  chair,  she  looks  at  the  picture. 


ACT  III]      THE  FAITH   HEALER  79 

MRS.  BEELER. 

Do  you  think  your  uncle  Mat  would  mind  if  we 
took  that  picture  down  ? 

Rhoda  unpins  the  print  from  the  wall,  rolls  it  up,  and 
lays  it  on  the  bookshelf.  She  comes  to  her  aunt  again. 

RHODA. 
Auntie — 

MRS.  BEELER. 
Yes? 

RHODA. 
I  think  I  ought  to  go  away. 

MRS.  BEELER. 
Astonished. 

Go  away  ?  Where  ? 

RHODA. 
Out  of  this  house. 

MRS.  BEELER. 
Why? 

RHODA. 
So  as  not  to  —  hinder  him. 


8o  THE  FAITH   HEALER      [ACT  in 

MRS.  BEELER. 
Surprised. 

Hinder  him?  Why  should  you  hinder  him? 

Rhoda  leans  down  and  kisses  her  aunfs  hair,  with 
out  answering. 

MRS.  BEELER. 
Caressing  her  head. 

There,  you  have  taken  what  I  said  too  seriously. 
It  was  nothing  but  a  sick  woman's  imagination. 

MartJm  enters  from  the  kitchen. 

MARTHA. 

Mary,  you  'd  ought  to  be  abed.  You  're  tempting 
Providence. 

Pause. 

I  saw  your  doctor  down  in  the  village,  and  he 
allowed  he  'd  come  up  to  see  you  this  afternoon. 
He  was  all  on  end  about  your  bein'  able  to 
walk. 

RHODA. 
I  did  n't  know  you  had  a  doctor  now. 


ACT  ill]      THE  FAITH   HEALER  81 

MRS.  BEELER. 

Yes.  He's  a  young  man  who's  just  come  here 
to  build  up  a  practice.  —  I  think  I  will  rest 
awhile. 

She  rises  and  walks  unsteadily.   The  others  hasten  to 
help  her,  but  she  motions  them  back. 

MARTHA. 
It  does  beat  all  1  Let  us  help  you  to  bed,  Mary. 

MRS.  BEELER. 

No.  It's  so  good  to  feel  that  I  can  walk  alone.  I'll 
just  lie  down  on  the  couch. 

Mr.  Beeler  enters  from  kitchen  and  crosses  to  help  his 
wife.   The  others  give  place  to  him. 

MRS.  BEELER. 

O,  Mat,  our  good  days  are  coming  back !  I  shall 
be  strong  and  well  for  you  again. 

BEELER. 

Yes,  Mary.  There  will  be  nothing  to  separate  us 
any  more. 


82  THE  FAITH   HEALER      [ACT  in 

MRS.  BEELER. 

Points  at  his  books. 

Not  even  —  them  ? 

He  goes  to  the  alcove,  takes  the  books  from  the  shelf, 
and  lays  them  on  the  bench  in  the  corner.  Mrs.  Beeler 
points  to  the  pictures  of  Darwin  and  Spencer. 

Nor  them  ? 

He  unpins  the  pictures,  lays  them  upon  the  heap  of 
books,  and  returns  to  her. 

You  don't  know  how  happy  that  makes  me ! 
They  go  out  by  the  hall  door. 

MARTHA. 

With  Rhoda,  Jias  looked  on  in  silence ;  she  points  at 
the  pile  in  the  corner. 

That 's  a  good  riddance  of  bad  rubbish  !  —  You  'd 
better  help  me  with  the  baskets.  Them  folks  will 
starve  to  death,  if  the  neighborhood  round  don't 
give  'em  a  bite  to  eat. 

They  go  out  by  the  kitchen  door.  There  is  a  knock  at 
the  outer  door.  As  Mr.  Beeler  reenters,  the  knock  is 
repeated.  He  admits  Dr.  George  Littlefield,  a  man  of 
thirty,  with  an  intelligent,  rather  dissolute  face,  and 
careful,  citified  dress. 


ACT  in]      THE  FAITH   HEALER  83 

BEELER. 
Good  afternoon,  doctor. 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

Pointing  through  the  window. 

They're  just  laying  siege  to  you,  ain't  they?  I 
guess  they  won't  let  your  man  give  them  the  slip 
this  time.  —  Where  do  you  keep  him  ? 

BEELER. 

With  reserve. 

He  is  upstairs. 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

Jocosely. 

Loose  ? 

BEELER. 
With  severity. 

He  has  given  my  wife  the  use  of  herself.  She 
walked  alone  to-day,  the  first  time  for  five  years. 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

Sobered. 

I  beg  your  pardon.  I  understand  how  you  feel 
about  it.  And  even  if  it  proves  to  be  only  tempo 
rary — 


84  THE  FAITH   HEALER      [ACT  III 

BEELER. 
Startled. 

Temporary  ? 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

Permanent,  let  us  hope.  Anyway,  it 's  a  very  re 
markable  case.  Astonishing.  I  've  only  known  one 
just  like  it  —  personally,  I  mean. 

BEELER. 
Astounded. 

Just  like  it? 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

Well,  pretty  much.  Happened  in  Chicago  when  I 
was  an  interne  at  St.  Luke's. 

BEELER. 

Then  it 's  not  —  there 's  nothing  —  peculiar  about 
it? 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

Yes,  sir-ree !  Mighty  peculiar  ! 

BEELER. 
I  mean  nothing,  as  you  might  say,  outside  nature  ? 


ACT  in]      THE  FAITH   HEALER  85 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

O,  bless  you,  you  can't  get  outside  nature  now- 
a-days ! 

Moves  his  hands  in  a  wide  circle. 

Tight  as  a  drum,  no  air-holes.  —  Devilish  queer, 
though,  the  power  of  the  mind  over  the  body. 

Assuming  his  professional  manner. 
Can  I  see  your  wife  ? 

BEELER. 
Just  laid  down.  Guess  she  'd  better  rest  a  minute. 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

Lights  a  cigarette,  and  leans  on  the  edge  of  the  table, 
with  one  leg  swinging. 

When  I  was  at  Ann  Arbor,  we  blindfolded  a  chap 
in  a  fraternity  initiation,  and  told  him  to  get  ready 
to  have  his  arm  branded  with  a  red-hot  poker. 
Damned  if  he  don't  carry  the  scar  to  this  day, 
though  we  only  touched  him  with  a  piece  of  ice ! 

—  Fact! 

BEELER. 

His  native  skepticism  slowly  reviving. 
Are  you  sure  this  case  is  just  the  same? 


86  THE  FAITH   HEALER      [ACT  III 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

Precisely;  with  religious  excitement  to  help  out. 
He  points  outside. 

They  're  getting  ready  for  Kingdom-come  over  it, 
out  yonder ! 

BEELER. 

They're  worked  up  enough,  if  that's  all  that's 
needed. 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

Worked  up !  Elijah  in  a  chariot  of  fire,  distributing 
cure-alls  as  he  mounts  to  glory.  They  've  got  their 
ascension  robes  on,  especially  the  niggers! 

There  is  a  rap  at  the  outer  dtfor.  Mr.  Beeler  opens 
the  door  slightly,  looks  out,  then  admits  the  Rev. 
John  Culpepper,  a  severe  and  formal  man,  who 
shakes  hands  with  him  solemnly. 

BEELER. 

O,  it 's  you,  Mr.  Culpepper.  We  have  to  keep  our 
selves  barricaded. 

Locks  outer  door  again. 

Dr.  Littlefield,  make  you  acquainted  with  the  Rev 
erend  John  Culpepper,  my  wife's  church. 


ACT  ill]      THE  FAITH   HEALER  87 

CULPEPPER. 

Shaking  hands. 

Dr.  Littlefield. — The  title  is,  I  imagine,  secular. 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

Airily. 

Sorry  to  say.  —  Pills  and  powders.  —  Pottering  line 
of  business,  by  the  side  of  what  we're  invited  to 
witness  here. 

CULPEPPER. 
With  severity. 

I  take  it  you  are  the  late  Dr.  Martin's  successor. 

LITTLEFIELD. 
I  have  the  honor. 

CULPEPPER. 

Old  Dr.  Martin  would  never  have  taken  a  flippant 
tone  in  such  a  crisis. 

LITTLEFIELD. 

Flippant?  By  no  means!  A  little  light-headed.  My 
profession  is  attacked.  At  its  very  roots,  sir.  — 

With  relish. 

As  far  as  that  goes,  I  'm  afraid  yours  is,  too. 


88  THE  FAITH   HEALER      [ACT  ill 

CULPEPPER. 

To  Beeler,  ignoring  the  gibe. 

Am  I  to  understand  that  you  countenance  these 
proceedings  ? 

BEELER. 
Pointing  to  the  invalid-cJtair. 

If  your  wife  had  spent  five  years  helpless  in  that 
chair,  I  guess  you  'd  countenance  any  proceedings 
that  set  her  on  her  feet. 

CULPEPPER. 
Towers  threateningly. 

If  your  wife  is  the  woman  she  was,  she  would 
rather  sit  helpless  forever  beside  the  Rock  of 
Ages,  than  dance  and  flaunt  herself  in  the  house 
of  idols ! 

BEELER. 
With  deprecating  humor. 

O,  I  guess  she  ain't  doin'  much  flauntin'  of  herself 
in  any  house  of  idols.  —  Doctor  here  says  it 's  all 
natural  enough.  Seems  to  think  this  kind  of  cure 
is  the  coming  thing. 


ACT  ill]      THE  FAITH   HEALER  89 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

To  the  preacher  s  sourly  questioning  look. 

The  Brother  would  drive  us  doctors  into  the  poor- 
house,  if  he  could  keep  up  the  pace.  And  you 
preachers,  too,  far  as  that  goes.  If  he  could  keep  up 
the  pace.  Well  (sucks  at  his  cigarette  deliberately), 
lucky  for  us,  he  can't  keep  it  up. 

CULPEPPER. 

Disdaining  inquiry,  to  Beeler. 
Can  I  see  your  wife  ? 

BEELER. 
All  right,  gentlemen. 

Opens  hall  door.   The  minister  goes  out ;  Mr.  Beeler  de 
tains  Dr.  Littlefield  as  he  asks  — 

Why  can't  he  keep  it  up  ? 

LITTLEFIELD. 
Throwing  away  his  cigarette. 

Can't  stand  the  strain.  —  O,  I  haven't  seen  him 
operate,  but  I  'm  willing  to  bet  his  miracles  take  it 
out  of  him ! 


90  THE  FAITH   HEALER      [ACT  m 

Enter  from  kitchen  Martha,  and  a  little  after,  Rhoda, 
with  baskets  of  provisions ,  which  they  finish  packing, 
fetching  other  articles  from  the  cupboard. 

MARTHA. 

I  'd  like  to  know  what  they  think  we  're  made  of, 
with  butter  at  twenty-five  cents  a  pound  and  flour 
worth  its  weight  in  diamonds  ! 

RHODA. 

All  the  neighbors  are  helping,  and  none  of  them 
with  our  cause  for  thankfulness. 

MARTHA. 

That 's  no  sign  you  should  go  plasterin'  on  that 
butter  like  you  was  a  brick-layer  tryin'  to  bust  the 
contractor  ! 
She  takes  the  bread  from  Rhoda  and  scrapes  the  butter 

thin. 

RHODA. 

As  the  clock  strikes  five. 

It 's  time  for  Aunt  Mary  to  have  her  tea.   Shall  I 

make  it? 

MARTHA. 

You  make  it !  Not  unless  you  want  to  lay  her  flat 
of  her  back  again ! 


ACT  ill]      THE   FAITH   HEALER  91 

As  she  flounces  out,  Annie  enters  from  the  hall.  She 
points  with  one  hand  at  the  retreating  Martha,  with 
the  other  toward  her  mother  s  room. 

ANNIE. 
Sings  with  sly  emphasis. 

"  Mary  an'  a'  Martha  's  jus'  gone  along, 
Mary  an'  a'  Martha 's  jus'  gone  along, 
Mary  an'  a'  Martha 's  jus'  gone  along, 
Ring  dem  charmin'  bells." 

RHODA. 

Looks  attentively  at  the  child. 
What 's  got  into  you,  little  imp  ? 

ANNIE. 

Brazenly. 

I  've  been  peeping  through  mamma's  key-hole. 

RHODA. 
That 's  not  nice. 

ANNIE. 

I  know  it,  but  the  minister's  in  there,  and  Dr. 
Littlefield. 


92  THE  FAITH   HEALER      [ACT  in 

RHODA. 

Startled. 
Who? 

ANNIE. 

You  know,  mamma's  doctor. 
Recollecting. 
O,  he 's  never  come  since  you  've  been  here. 

RHODA. 

In   a  changed  voice,  as   she  takes   the  child  by  the 
shoulders. 

What  does  he  look  like  ? 

ANNIE. 

O,  he 's  too  red  in  the  face,  and  looks  kind  of  — 
insulting  —  and  he  wears  the  most  beautiful  neck 
ties,  and  — 

Exhausted  by  her  efforts  at  description. 
O,  I  don't  know  ! 

Rhoda  releases  her  and  walks  to  the  window,  where 
she  stands  looking  out. 


ACT  ill]      THE  FAITH   HEALER  93 

ANNIE. 
Sings,  as  she  goes  out  by  the  kitchen  door. 

"  Free  grace,  undyin'  love, 
Free  grace,  undyin'  love, 
Free  grace,  undyin'  love, 
Ring  dem  lovely  bells." 

Dr.  Littlefield  enters  from  Mrs.  Peeler's  room.  He 
speaks  back  to  Beeler  on  the  threshold. 

LITTLEFIELD. 
Just  want  to  get  my  kit. 

Looking  for  his  medicine  case,  he  approaches  Rhoda, 
who  still  has  her  back  turned. 

Beg  pardon ! 

She  faces  him.  He  starts  back  in  sttrprise.  She  remains 
looking  at  him  in  a  dreamy  way,  as  if  scarcely  see 
ing  him. 

Bless  my  soul  and  body  !  Rhoda  Williams ! 

She  says  nothing,  but  watches  him  listlessly  as  he  closes 
the  hall  door,  returns  to  her,  and  stands  somewhat 
disconcerted. 

Here  of  all  places. 


94  THE  FAITH   HEALER      [ACT  in 

RHODA. 
Mrs.  Beeler  is  my  aunt. 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

Well,  well !  The  world  is  small. 

Pause. 

Been  here  long  ? 

RHODA. 
Only  a  month. 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

And  before  that  ? 

RHODA. 
It 's  a  long  story.  Besides,  you  would  n't  understand. 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

You  might  let  me  try.    What  in  the  world  have 
you  been  doing  all  this  time  ? 

RHODA. 
I  have  been  searching  for  something. 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

What  was  it  ? 


ACT  in]      THE  FAITH   HEALER  95 

RHODA. 

Slowly. 

My  own  lost  self.  —  My  own  —  lost  —  soul. 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

Amused  at  her  solemnity. 

You're  a  queer  bundle  of  goods.  Always  were. 
Head  full  of  solemn  notions  about  life,  and  at  the 
same  time,  when  it  came  to  a  lark  —  O,  I'm  no 
grandmother,  but  when  you  got  on  your  high 
horse—.  Well! 

He  waves  his  hands  expressively. 

RHODA. 
Bursts  out. 

The  great  town,  the  people,  the  noise,  and  the 
lights  — after  seventeen  years  of  life  on  a  dead 
prairie,  where  I  'd  hardly  heard  a  laugh  or  seen 
a  happy  face  ! 

Her  manner  changes. 

All  the  same,  the  prairie  had  me  still. 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

You  don't  mean  you  went  back  to  the  farm  ? 


96  THE  FAITH   HEALER      [ACT  in 

RHODA. 

I  mean  that  the  years  I  'd  spent  out  there  in  that 
endless  stretch  of  earth  and  sky  — ! 

She  breaks  off,  with  a  weary  gesture. 

There 's  no  use  going  into  that.   You  would  n't 
understand. 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

No,  I  walk  on  simple  shoe  leather  and  eat  mere 
victuals. — Just  the  same,  it  wasn't  square  of  you 
to  clear  out  that  way  —  vanish  into  air  without  a 
word  or  a  sign. 

RHODA. 

Looking  at  him  steadily. 
You  know  very  well  why  I  went. 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

Returning  her  gaze,  unabashed,  chants  with  meaning 
and  relish. 

"  Hey  diddle,  diddle, 
The  cat  and  the  riddle, 
The  cow  jumped  over  the  moon." 

Rhoda  takes  ttp  the  basket  and  goes  toward  the  outer 
door.    He  intercepts  her. 


ACT  in]      THE  FAITH   HEALER  97 

RHODA. 
Let  me  pass. 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

You  're  not  taking  part  in  this  camp-meeting  en 
thusiasm,  are  you  ? 

RHODA. 
Yes. 

As  he  stares  at  her,  his  astonishment  changes  to  amuse 
ment  ;  he  chuckles  to  himself,  then  bursts  out  laugh 
ing,  as  in  humorous  reminiscence. 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

Bless  my  soul !  And  to  think  that  only  a  couple  of 
little  years  ago —   O,  bless  my  soul ! 

The  stair  door  opens.  MicJiaelis  appears.  His  face  is 
flushed,  his  hair  disordered,  and  his  whole  person 
expresses  a  feverish  and  precarious  exaltation. 

MlCHAELIS. 

Looks  at  Little  field  with  vague  query,  then  at  Rhoda. 

Excuse  me,  I  am  very  thirsty.  I  came  down  for  a 
glass  of  water. 

Rhoda  goes  to  the  kitchen  door,  where  she  turns.  The 
doctor  puts  on  a  pair  of  nose-glasses,  and  scans  Mi- 


98  THE  FAITH   HEALER      [ACT  in 

chaelis  with  interest.    He  holds  out  his  hand,  which 
Michaelis  takes. 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

We  ought  to  know  each  other.  We  're  colleagues, 
in  a  way. 

MICHAELIS. 
Colleagues  ? 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

In  a  way,  yes.  I  'm  a  practicing  physician. 
Exit  Rhoda. 

You  seem  to  have  the  call  on  us  professionals,  to 
judge  by  the  number  of  your  clients  out  yonder. 

He  points  out  of  the  window. 

To  say  nothing  of  Exhibit  One ! 

He  points  to  the  hall  door. 

MICHAELIS. 
Vaguely. 

I  —  I  don't  know  that  I  — 

Rhoda  enters  from  the  kitchen,  with  water,  which  he 
takes. 


ACT  ill]      THE  FAITH   HEALER  99 

Thank  you. 

He  drinks  thirstily. 

Mr.  Beeler  opens  the  hall  door;  he  looks  at  the  group, 
taken  aback. 

BEELER. 
Oh—! 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

I  stopped  to  chat  with  your  niece.  She  and  I  hap 
pen  to  be  old  acquaintances. 

BEELER. 
Stares. 

You  don't  say  ?  —  Would  you  mind  coming  in  here 
for  a  minute  ? 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

Following  him  out. 
What 's  up  ? 

BEELER. 

My  wife 's  got  it  in  her  head  that  she 's  called  upon 
to- 

Doo  r  closes. 


ioo  THE  FAITH   HEALER      [ACT  in 

MlCHAELIS. 

Has  followed  Littlefield  with  Ids  eyes  ;  sets  down  the 
glass,  and  turns  slowly  to  Rhoda. 

Who  is  that  ? 

RHODA. 
My  aunt's  doctor. 

MlCHAELIS. 

You  know  him  well  ? 

RHODA. 
Yes.  —  No. 

MlCHAELIS. 

What  does  that  mean  ? 

RHODA. 

I  have  n't  seen  him  for  nearly  two  years.  —  I  can't 
remember  much  about  the  person  I  was,  two  years 
ago. 

MlCHAELIS. 

Yes  !  Yes  !  I  understand. 

He  turns   away,  lifting  his  hands,  speaking  half  to 
himself. 


ACT  in]      THE  FAITH    HEALER  101 

That  these  lives  of  ours  should  be  poured  like  a  jelly, 
from  one  mould  into  another,  until  God  Himself 
cannot  remember  what  they  were  two  years  ago, 
or  two  hours  ago  ! 

RHODA. 
After  a  silence. 
Why  do  you  say  that  ? 

He  does  not  answer;  she  comes  closer  and  speaks  im 
pulsively. 

Tell  me  what  is  troubling  you. 

MlCHAELIS. 

Looks  at  her  intently. 
You  ask  that? 

Rhoda  does  not  answer.  He  turns  from  her,  and  walks 
nervously  about,  taking  up  small  objects  and  putting 
them  down  again,  in  his  peculiar  manner. 

RHODA. 

Following  him  with  her  eyes. 

Last  month  —  out  West  —  were  there  many  people 
there? 


102  THE  FAITH   HEALER      [ACT  in 

MlCHAELIS. 

No.  —  Two  or  three. 

RHODA. 
The  papers  said  — 

MlCHAELIS. 

When  the  crowd  began  to  gather,  I  —  went  away. 

RHODA. 
Why? 

MlCHAELIS. 

My  time  had  not  come. 

He  has  stopped  before  the  map  and  stands  gazing  at  it. 

RHODA. 
Has  it  come  now? 

Michaelis  looks  at  her,  then  again  at  the  map.  She  re 
peats  the  words,  coming  closer. 

Has  your  time  come  now  ? 

MlCHAELIS. 

Yes. 

RHODA. 
How  do  you  know? 


ACT  in]      THE  FAITH   HEALER  103 

MlCHAELIS. 

Points  at  the  map. 
It  is  written  there ! 

RHODA. 

Looks  at  the  map,  puzzled. 
How  do  you  mean,  written  there? 

MlCHAELIS. 

Can't  you  see  it  ? 

RHODA. 
I  see  the  map,  nothing  more. 

MlCHAELIS. 

Points  again,  gazing  fixedly. 

It  seems  to  me  to  be  written  in  fire. 

RHODA. 
What  seems  written  ? 

MlCHAELIS. 

My  life  —  my  destiny. 

RHODA. 
Tell  me  what  you  mean !   Explain  to  me. 


or  THE    ' 

UNIVERSITY 


104  THE  FAITH   HEALER      [ACT  in 

MlCHAELIS. 

Slowly. 

For  five  years  I  have  gone  up  and  down  this  land, 
east  and  west,  north  and  south,  stopping  to  earn 
money  enough  to  live,  then  on  again,  always  on 
foot,  driven  by  something  —  how  shall  I  tell  you  ? 
Now  it  was  like  a  voice,  now  like  a  finger  pointing. 
Sometimes  it  came  to  me  at  my  work,  or  in  sleep, 
or  in  sickness,  and  thrust  me  on,  on,  like  the  hand 
of  an  angel  on  my  neck.  Then,  for  a  little  while, 
the  hand  would  be  lifted,  and  peace  would  flow  into 
me,  and  with  it  power !  Power  to  heal  with  one 
touch  of  this  hand,  the  souls  and  bodies  of  men. 
But  after  one  or  two  had  risen  up  healed,  the  Voice 
would  cry,  ''Not  here,  not  yet!"  and  the  hand 
would  be  on  my  neck,  pushing  me  on.  —  Till  yes 
terday.  I  did  n't  see  what  it  all  meant  —  till  yester 
day. 

RHODA. 

What  did  you  see — yesterday? 

MlCHAELIS. 

What  I  have  been  doing,  all  these  five  years. 

RHODA. 
Since  your  work  began  ? 


ACT  ill]      THE  FAITH   HEALER  105 

MlCHAELIS. 

It  has  never  begun. — That  is  what  I  have  been 
waiting  for.  For  five  years  I  have  been  waiting.  — 
Many  times  I  have  thought,  "  Now,"  and  some 
man  or  woman  has  risen  up  healed,  and  looked  at 
me  with  eyes  of  prophecy.  But  the  Voice  would 
cry,  "  On,  on  1 "  and  I  would  go  forward,  driven  by 
a  force  and  a  will  not  my  own. 

Pause. 

I  did  n't  know  what  it  all  meant,  but  I  know  now. 

He  points  at  the  map,  his  manner  transformed  with 
excitement  and  exaltation. 

It  is  written  there.  It  is  written  in  letters  of  fire. 
My  eyes  are  opened,  and  I  see  ! 

RHODA. 

Following  his  gaze,  then  looking  at  him  again,  awed 
and  bewildered. 

What  is  it  that  you  see  ? 

MlCHAELIS. 

The  Cross ! 

RHODA. 
I — I  don't  understand. 


106  THE   FAITH   HEALER      [ACT  HI 

MlCHAELIS. 

All  those  places  where  the  hand  was  lifted  for  a 
moment,  and  the  power  flowed  into  me  — 

He  places  his  finger  at  various  points  on  the  map  ;  these 
points  lie  in  two  transverse  lines,  one  running  roughly 
north  and  south,  the  other  east  and  west. 

Look !  There  was  such  a  place,  and  there  another, 
and  there,  and  there.  And  there  was  one,  and 
there,  and  there.  —  Do  you  see? 

RHODA. 
I  see.  —  It  makes  a  kind  of  cross. 

MlCHAELIS. 

You  see  it  too !  And  do  you  see  what  it  means  — 
this  sign  that  my  feet  have  marked  for  five  blind 
years,  winter  and  summer,  across  the  length  and 
breadth  of  a  continent?  —  And  that  crowd  of 
stricken  souls  out  yonder,  raised  up  as  by  miracle, 
their  broken  bodies  and  tortured  spirits  crying  to 
be  healed,  crying  with  a  great  hope  and  a  great 
despair  —  do  you  see  what  they  mean  ? 

RHODA. 
In  a  steady  voice. 

I  see  what  all  these  things  mean.  They  mean  what 


ACT  III]      THE  FAITH   HEALER  107 

my  aunt  said  this  morning.  They  mean  that  your 
great  hour  has  come. 

MlCHAELIS. 

My  hour,  my  hour ! 
He  comes  nearer. 

I  knew  a  young  Indian  once,  a  Hopi  boy,  who 
made  songs  and  sang  them  to  his  people.  There 
was  nothing  on  the  earth,  or  in  the  air,  that  his  songs 
did  not  touch  and  glorify :  the  lives  of  plants  and 
insects,  of  birds  and  beasts  and  men,  the  sacred 
rain-cloud  and  the  living  face  of  the  heavens.  One 
evening  we  sat  on  the  roof  of  the  chiefs  house,  and 
talked  of  the  summer  festival  near  at  hand,  when 
the  singers  of  many  pueblos  would  sing  for  the 
year's  prize.  We  knew  that  our  singer  would  win, 
and  asked  him  to  sing  once  more  for  us  before  the 
trial.  He  shook  his  head,  rose  up  with  a  face  of 
trouble,  and  went  away  in  the  starlight.  The  next 
morning  I  found  him  among  the  rocks  under  the 
mesa,  with  an  empty  bottle  by  his  side.  —  He 
never  sang  again!  Drunkenness  had  taken  him. 
He  never  sang  again,  or  made  another  verse. 

RHODA. 

What  has  that  to  do  with  you  ?  It 's  not  —  ?  You 
don't  mean  that  you — ? 


io8  THE  FAITH   HEALER      [ACT  III 

MlCHAELIS. 

No.   There  is  a  stronger  drink,  for  such  as  I  am  1 

RHODA. 

Forcing  herself  to  go  on. 
What—  "  stronger  drink  "  ? 

MlCHAELIS. 

Wildly. 

The  wine  of  this  world  !  The  wine-bowl  that  crowns 
the  feasting  table  of  the  children  of  this  world. 

RHODA. 
What  do  you  mean  by  —  the  wine  of  this  world  ? 

MlCHAELIS. 

At  the  window. 

You  know  that !   Every  woman  knows. 

He  points  out. 

Out  there,  at  this  moment,  in  city  and  country, 
everywhere,  even  to  the  utmost  isles  of  the  sea, 
souls,  thousands  upon  thousands  of  souls,  are  dash 
ing  in  pieces  the  cup  that  holds  the  wine  of  heaven, 
the  wine  of  God's  shed  blood,  and  lifting  the  cup 


ACT  in]      THE  FAITH   HEALER  109 

that  holds  the  wine  of  the  glory  of  this  earth ! 

Look  1 

He  points  at  the  sunset-flushed  sky. 

The  very  sky  is  blood-red  with  the  lifted  cups. 
And  we  two  are  in  the  midst  of  them.  Listen  what 
I  sing  there,  on  the  hills  of  light  in  the  sunset :  "  O, 
how  beautiful  upon  the  mountains  are  the  feet  of 
my  beloved ! " 

A  song  rises  outside.  Rhoda  takes  her  hat  and  cloak 
from  the  closet,  goes  to  the  outer  door,  and  unlocks 
it.  At  the  sound,  he  turns  to  her,  aroused  as  if  from 
trance. 

MICHAELIS. 
(Following  her.) 

Where  are  you  going  ? 

RHODA. 
Don't  ask  me  where. 

MICHAELIS. 
You  are  going  —  away  ? 

RHODA. 
I  ought  to  have  gone  before,  but  I  was  not  sure  — 


no  THE  FAITH   HEALER      [ACT  in 

MlCHAELIS. 

Sure  of  what  ? 

RHODA. 

How  it  was  —  between  us. 

MlCHAELIS. 

Vaguely. 

I  —  we  were  saying  — .   Listen ! 

The  singing  grows  louder  and  nearer.  He  comes  to  her, 
grasping  her  arm  in  nervous  apprehension. 

MlCHAELIS. 

For  God's  sake,  tell  me,  what  is  that  ? 

She  looks  at  him  astonished  and  frightened.  He  speaks 
to  himself,  as  the  shattered  framework  of  his  thought 
settles  again  into  shape. 

Yes.  Now  I  remember. 

RHODA. 
You  are  ill !  you  are  dreadfully  ill ! 

MlCHAELIS. 

Touching  his  head. 

It 's  as  if  a  door  shut  here  in  my  brain.  It  always 
opens  again,  at  once.  — 


ACT  III]      THE  FAITH   HEALER  in 

Pause.  He  speaks  half  stealthily,  as  if  in  fear. 
Are  there  many  people  —  waiting  —  out  there  ? 

RHODA. 
You  know,  yourself.  Hundreds,  if  not  thousands. 

MlCHAELIS. 

Walks  about. 

Thousands.  —  Thousands  of  thousands !  — 

He  stops  beside  her. 

You  won't  leave  me  alone  ? 

RHODA. 

Hesitates,  looks  at  him  searchingly,  then  speaks  with 
sudden  decision. 

No. 

MlCHAELIS. 

Continuing  his  walk. 
Thousands  of  thousands ! 

The  hall  door  opens,  Dr.  Littlefield  and  the  Rev. 
Culpepper  enter.  The  latter  stares  inquiringly  from 
Michaelis  to  the  Doctor,  who  nods  affirmatively,  and 
adjusts  his  glasses. 


H2  THE  FAITH   HEALER      [ACT  III 

CULPEPPER. 

Mutters  to  Littlefield. 

Nonsense !  Sacrilegious  nonsense  I 

LITTLEFIELD. 
Same  tone. 

I  Ve  done  my  best. 

Behind  them  comes  Mrs.  Beeler,  supported  by  her  hus 
band.  At  the  same  moment  Martha  enters  from  the 
kitchen^  with  tea  ;  Uncle  Abe  and  Annie  follow. 

BEELER. 

On  the  threshold. 
Mary,  take  another  minute  to  consider. 

Mrs.  Beeler,  as  if  without  hearing  this  protest,  gazes 
at  Michaelis,  and  advances  toward  him  with  a  ges 
ture  of  the  arms  which  causes  her  supporter  to  loosen 
his  hold,  though  he  follows  slightly  behind,  to  render 
aid  if  necessary. 

MRS.  BEELER. 
To  Michaelis. 

Tell  me  that  I  may  go  out,  and  stand  before  them 
for  a  testimony ! 


ACT  III]      THE  FAITH   HEALER  113 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

Coming  forward. 

As  a  physician,  I  must  formally  protest. 

CULPEPPER. 

And  I  as  a  minister  of  the  Gospel. 

MRS.  BEELER. 

To  MichaeliS)  with  a  nervous,  despairing  gesture. 
Speak  to  them  !   Explain  to  them  !  I  am  too  weak. 

There  is  a  sound  of  excited  voices  outside,  near  at  Jiand, 
then  a  sudden  trample  of  footsteps  outside  the  en 
trance  door,  which  Rhoda  has  left  unlocked  in  the 
previous  scene.  As  Beeler  goes  hurriedly  to  the  door 
it  bursts  open,  and  a  young  woman  with  a  baby  in 
her  arms  crowds  past  him,  and  stands  looking  wildly 
about  the  room. 

BEELER. 

As  he  forces  the  others  back. 
You  can't  come  in  here,  my  friends !   Stand  back  I 

He  closes  the  door  forcibly  upon  them,  and  locks  it. 
The  woman  gazes  from  one  to  another  of  the  men. 
The  old  negro  points  at  Michaelis.  She  advances  to 
him,  holding  out  the  child. 


ii4  THE  FAITH   HEALER      [ACT  in 

MOTHER. 

Don't  let  my  baby  die !  For  Christ's  sake,  don't  let 
him  die ! 

He  touches  her  head  tenderly,  and  signs  to  Rhoda  to 
take  her  and  the  child  into  the  inner  room. 

MICHAELIS. 
Take  her  with  you.  I  will  come. 

RHODA. 

With  gentle  urgency,  to  the  woman. 
Come  with  me. 
She  leads  the  woman  out  through  the  hall  door. 

MICHAELIS. 

To  Mrs.  Beeler,  as  he  points  outside. 
Tell  them  to  wait  until  to-morrow  at  sunrise. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Beeler  move  toward  the  entrance  door; 
some  of  the  others  start  after,  some  linger,  curious  to 
know  what  will  happen  to  the  child. 

MICHAELIS. 

With  a  commanding  gesture. 
Go,  all  of  you ! 


ACT  III]      THE  FAITH   HEALER  115 

The  room  is  cleared  except  for  Littlefield,  who  goes  last, 
stops  in  the  doorway,  closes  the  door,  and  approaches 
Michaelis.  He  speaks  in  a  friendly  and  reasonable 
tone. 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

You're  on  the  wrong  track,  my  friend. 

MICHAELIS. 
I  asked  you  to  go. 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

I  heard  you.  I  want  to  say  a  word  or  two  first.  For 
your  own  sake  and  for  that  woman's  sake,  you'd 
better  listen.  You  can't  do  anything  for  her  baby. 

MICHAELIS. 
Is  that  for  you  to  say  ? 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

Yes,  sir !  It  is  most  decidedly  for  me  to  say. 

MICHAELIS. 

By  what  authority  ? 

i 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

By  the  authority  of  medical  knowledge.  —  You  are  a 


n6  THE  FAITH   HEALER      [ACT  m 

very  remarkable  man,  with  a  very  remarkable  gift. 
In  your  own  field,  I  take  off  my  hat  to  you.  If 
you  knew  yourself  as  science  knows  you,  you  might 
make  the  greatest  doctor  living.  Your  handling  of 
Mrs.  Beeler's  case  was  masterly.  But  —  come  right 
down  to  it  — you  did  n't  work  the  cure. 

MlCHAELIS. 

I  know  that. 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

Who  do  you  think  did  ? 

MlCHAELIS. 

Raising  his  hand. 

He  whom  I  serve,  and  whom  you  blaspheme ! 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

No,  sir !  He  whom  7  serve,  and  whom  you  blas 
pheme.  —  Nature.  —  Or  rather,  Mrs.  Beeler  did  it 
herself. 

MlCHAELIS. 

Startled. 
Herself? 


ACT  ill]      THE  FAITH   HEALER  117 

LlTTLEFIELDo 

You  gave  her  a  jog,  so  to  speak,  here,  or  here 
(touches  his  brain  and  heart),  and  she  did  the  rest. 
But  you  can't  do  the  same  to  everybody.  Above 
all,  you  can't  do  it  to  a  baby  in  arms.  There  's 
nothing  either  here  or  here  (touches  brain  and  heart) 
to  get  hold  of.  I  'm  a  modest  man,  and  as  I  say, 
in  your  own  field  you  're  a  wonder.  But  in  a 
case  like  this  one  —  (he points  to  the  hall  door)  I  'm 
worth  a  million  of  you. 

MlCHAELIS. 

Moves  as  if  to  give  place  to  him,  with  a  challenging 
gesture  toward  the  door. 

Try! 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

Shrugs. 

Not  much  !  The  woman  would  n't  listen  to  me. 
And  if  she  did,  and  I  failed  — O,  I  'm  no  miracle 
worker!  —  they'd  make  short  work  of  me,  out 
there. 

He  points  out,  and  adds  significantly,  — 
They  're  in  no  mood  for  failures,  out  there. 


n8  THE  FAITH   HEALER      [ACT  in 

Mickaelis's  gaze,  as  if  in  spite  of  himself,  goes  to  the 
window.  He  rests  his  hand  on  the  table,  to  stop  its 
trembling.  Littlefield  goes  on,  watching  him  with 
interest. 

Will  you  permit  me  one  more  observation,  as  a 
scientific  man  ? 

Michaelis's  eyes  come  back  to  Littlefield1  s  face . 
Nervously  speaking,  you  are  a  high-power  ma 
chine.  The  dynamo  that  runs  you  is  what  is  called 
"  faith/'  "  religious  inspiration,"  or  what-not.  It 's 
a  dynamo  which  now-a-days  easily  gets  out  of 
order.  Well,  my  friend,  as  a  doctor  I  warn  you 
that  your  little  dynamo  is  out  of  order. 

His  voice  becomes  harder. 

In  other  words,  you  Ve  lost  your  grip.    You  Jre  in 

a  funk. 

Rhoda  opens  the  hall  door  and  looks  anxiously  at  the 
two.  Michaelis  approaches  her,  with  averted  eyes.  As 
he  is  about  to  pass  out,  she  speaks  timidly. 

RHODA. 
Do  you  want  me  ? 

MICHAELIS. 
In  a  toneless  voice. 
No. 


ACT  III]      THE  FAITH   HEALER  119 

She  watches  him  until  the  inner  door  shuts,  then  closes 
the  hall  door  slowly .  She  and  L  ittlefield  confront  each 
other  in  silence  for  a  moment,  across  the  width  of 
the  room. 

RHODA. 

Forcing  herself  to  speak  calmly. 

Please  go. 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

Drops  his  professional  tone  for  one  of  cynical  badinage. 

You  make  up  well  as  one  of  the  Wise  Virgins, 
whose  lamps  are  trimmed  and  burning  for  the 
Bridegroom  to  pass  by.  I  hope  that  Personage 
won't  disappoint  you,  nor  the  several  hundred 
others  out  yonder  whose  lamps  are  trimmed  and 
burning. 

RHODA. 
More  tensely. 

Please  go. 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

Suppose  the  procession  doesnt  pass,  owing  to 
(waves  his  hand  airily)  some  hitch  in  the  ceremo 
nies.  What  do  you  say,  then,  to  our  using  the 
little  lamp,  so  neatly  trimmed  and  burning,  to  light 


120  THE  FAITH   HEALER      [ACT  m 

a  supper-table  down  town,  where  we  can  —  cele 
brate  our  paper  wedding,  eh  ?   Or  is  it  tin,  by  now  ? 

RHODA. 
Passionately. 

If  God  does  not  refute  you,  and  put  you  and  your 
kind  to  shame,  then  —  yes !  I  stake  my  soul  on  it. 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

A  s  he  goes  out. 
Good !  A  bargain. 

Outside,  another  hymn  rises,  Rhoda  turns  and  leans 
against  the  hall  door,  her  face  hidden,  her  hands 
clasped  above  her  head. 

CURTAIN 


ACT  IV 


ACT  IV 

Before  daylight.  The  sofa  has  been  drawn  in  front  of 
the  fire p,  and  on  the  table  near  the  sofa  a  lamp  burns. 
Rhoda  opens  the  hall  doory  the  young  mother,  in  the 
passage,  detaining  her. 

MOTHER. 
Don't  leave  me. 

RHODA. 
You  must  n't  worry. 

MOTHER. 
I  'm  afraid. 

RHODA. 

Think  of  those  others  out  there,  who  are  waiting 
too,  without  the  glimpse  of  comfort  you  've  had. 

MOTHER. 
Bursts  out. 

I  ain't  had  no  comfort !  When  I  heard  him  pray 
for  my  child,  I  —  I  don't  know  —  I  kept  say  in'  to 
myself,  —  "  O  God,  it 's  me  that 's  stretchin'  out 


124  THE   FAITH   HEALER      [ACT  IV 

my  hands  to  you,  not  him.  Don't  punish  me  for 
his  cold  words  ! " 

RHODA. 

Shocked  and  reproving. 
Cold  words ! 

MOTHER. 

Yes.  I  know  it 's  wrong.  I'll  try  to  feel  different. 
It 's  because  I  ain't  had  nothin'  to  do  with  religion 
for  so  long. 

RHODA. 
I  shall  be  here  if  you  want  me. 

She  kisses  the  woman,  closes  the  door  upon  her,  and 
with  a  gesture  of  weariness  lies  down  upon  the  sofa. 
The  hall  door  opens  again.  Annie,  in  her  night 
dress,  peeps  out  and  calls  in  a  whisper. 

ANNIE. 
Rho!-— Cousin  Rho! 

RHODA. 

Sleepily. 

Yes? 


ACT  IV]      THE  FAITH   HEALER  125 

ANNIE. 
Comes  to  the  sofa. 

I  want  to  stay  with  you.  I  Jm  so  frightened. 

Rhoda  draws  the  child  down  on  the  sofa  beside  her. 
There  is  a  moment's  quiet,  which  is  broken  by  Annie  s 
petulant  and  anxious  voice. 

ANNIE. 
Rhoda ! 

RHODA. 
Yes. 

ANNIE. 
What 's  the  matter  with  mamma  ? 

RHODA. 
She 's  cured,  dear. 

ANNIE. 

Whining. 

I  don't  want  her  to  be  cured !  I  want  her  to  be  like 
she  always  has  been. 

After  a  moments  hush. 

What 's  the  matter  with  all  those  people  out  there  ? 
She  bursts  out  crying  and  clings  feverishly  to  Rhoda. 
O,  what 's  going  to  happen  to  us  ? 


126  THE  FAITH   HEALER      [ACT  IV 

RHODA. 
Soothing  her. 

Hush,  Annie.  Go  to  sleep,  there 's  a  dear.    Don't 
cry. 

The  child's  sobbing  gradually  ceases.  Mr.  Beeler  enters 
in  an  old  figured  dressing-gown  and  slippers,  carry 
ing  a  candle.  He  peers  about. 

BEELER. 
Annie  here  ? 

RHODA. 
Sleepily. 

Yes,  Uncle. 

He  picks  tip  the  books  which  he  has  previously  thrown 
in  the  corner,  and  replaces  them  in  the  shelves.  He 
lifts  the  prints  from  the  bench,  gazes  at  them  medi 
tatively,  and  tacks  them  up  in  their  former  places, 
including  the  "Pan  and  the  Pilgrim."  At  the  noise 
of  hammering  Rhoda  gives  up  the  attempt  to  sleep 
and  leans  on  her  elbow,  watching  him. 

BEELER. 

With  a  sheepish  effort  at  unconcern. 
Just  tackin'  up  my  pictures  again. 


ACT  IV]      THE  FAITH   HEALER  127 

RHODA. 
Why  are  you  doing  that  ? 

BEELER. 

Doctor  says  it's  a  natural  cure.  Says  the  new 
medical  books  explain  it. 

RHODA. 

Do  you  think,  because  they  give  it  a  name,  that 
they  explain  it  ? 

BEELER. 
Bursts  out  petulantly . 

You  women  don't  want  things  explained !  You 
prefer  hocus-pocus.  Take  Martha  there.  Forty- 
four  years  she  waddles  around  without  an  idea  in 
her  noggin  but  housework,  then  all  of  a  sudden 
she  ups  with  —  (imitates  her)  "  You  can't  keep  a 
spirit  in  its  grave,  not  when  it 's  a  mind  to  come 
out."  Mystery !  Lolly-pop.  You  women  would 
live  on  it  if  we  Jd  let  you. 

RHODA. 

Whether  you  let  us  or  not,  we  do  live  on  it,  and 
so  does  the  whole  world. 


128  THE  FAITH   HEALER      [ACT  iv 

BEELER. 

What  the  world  lives  on  is  facts. 
He  points  at  the  books. 
Hard-boiled  sci-en-ti-fic  facts ! 
Points  at  the  "Pan  and  the  Pilgrim''1 

With  a  few  jokes  thrown  in  for  seasoning,  like 
that  there. 

RHODA. 

Looking  at  the  picture,  indifferent. 
What  does  it  mean  ? 

BEELER. 
Studying  it,  becomes  absorbed  and  amused. 

Well,  Pan,  he  was  a  kind  of  a  nature  god.  The 
old  Romans  thought  him  out,  to  stand  for  a  lot 
of  things. 

RHODA. 
What  kind  of  things  ? 

BEELER. 

Well,  natural  things,  with  plenty  of  sap  and  mis 
chief  in  'em.  Growin'  plants,  and  frisky  animals, 


ACT  IV]      THE  FAITH   HEALER  129 

and  young  folks  in  love.  —  There  he  sits  playin* 
Jenny-come-kiss-me  on  his  dod-gasted  mouth- 
organ,  when  along  comes  one  of  these  fellows  with 
religion  on  the  brain,  like  our  friend  upstairs - 
pikin'  for  Jerusalem,  to  get  a  saint's  toe-nail  and 
a  splinter  of  the  true  cross.  —  He  won't  never  get 
to  Jerusalem,  not  this  trip  ! 

Pause.  He  points  at  the  stairs,  with  relish. 

Like  to  see  our  friend  meet  up  with  that  boy.  He  'd 
fix  him ! 

RHODA. 
After  a  pause. 

Won't    you  please   take  Annie  back  ?    I  'm  so 
dreadfully  tired. 

BEELER. 
With  sympathy,  as  he  takes  up  the  child. 

Try  and  doze  off  again,  girl.     It  '11  be  a  hard  day 

for  you,  likely. 

He  goes  out,  carrying  Annie. 

Martha  enters  from  the  kitchen,  with  a  pan  of  dough, 
which  she  places  before  the  grate  to  rise,  after  mend 
ing  the  fire.  Beeler  re  enters. 


I3o  THE  FAITH   HEALER      [ACT  IV 

BEELER. 

Speaks  lowy  so  as  not  to  arouse  Rhoda. 
You  potterin'  round  too,  Marthy  ? 

MARTHA. 

With  heat,  but  following  his  hint  to  speak  low. 
Guess  your  barn  'd  'a'  been  afire,  'f  I  had  n't  been 
a-potterin'  round. 

BEELER. 
Starting. 
I  warned  'em  about  fire. 

MARTHA. 

Hay-mow  ketched.  If  I  had  n't  been  there  to  put 
it  out,  we  'd  'a'  been  without  a  roof  by  now. 

BEELER. 
As  he  goes  out. 
Guess  I  better  go  keep  an  eye  out. 

MARTHA. 
Guess  you  had ! 
She  moves  about  tJie  room,  speaking  low  to  herself. 


ACT  IV]      THE  FAITH   HEALER  131 

I  ain't  got  nothin'  agin  religion,  but  it  does  make 

mortal  fools  of  folks. 

Patise. 

See  Mat 's  nailed  up  his  pictures  again. 

She  comes  to  Rhoda,  and  leans  over  to  see  if  she  is 
sleeping ;  throws  a  cover  over  her,  turns  down  the 
lamp  and  places  a  large  tray  behind  it,  so  that  the 
couch  is  thrown  into  deep  shadow.  Exit  into  kitchen. 

Michaelis  enters  from  the  stair  door,  carrying  a  candle. 
He  is  in  a  high  state  of  nervous  tension,  his  shirt 
open  at  the  throat,  his  hair  disordered.  Lazarus  ap 
pears  in  the  door,  watching  him  anxiously.  Michaelis, 
at  the  window,  sinks  on  the  bench  and  peers  out. 
Lazarus  steals  in  and  crouches  at  his  feet,  resting 
his  forehead  on  Michaelis' s  knee.  Michaelis  puts  one 
hand  on  the  boys  head,  and  they  remain  for  a  time 
silent  and  motionless. 

MICHAELIS. 
Huskily. 

Lazarus ! 

LAZARUS. 

Low. 
Master ! 


132  THE  FAITH   HEALER      [ACT  iv 

MlCHAELIS. 

Tell  me  again  what  you  saw  in  the  country  of 
death. 

LAZARUS. 
Dark.  Dark.  See  nothing.    Hear  nothing. 

MlCHAELIS. 

And  then  ? 

LAZARUS. 

Somebody   begin   to   talk  —  small,   far  off.    One 
voice,  two  voices. 

MlCHAELIS. 

And  then  ? 

LAZARUS. 

Good  Spirit  come  out  of   the  dark  woods.   You 
come  too. 

MlCHAELIS. 

In  a  tense  whisper. 

How  did  you  know  it  was  the  Good  Spirit? 

LAZARUS. 
Like  picture  in  church  at  San  Pablo. 


ACT  IV]       THE  FAITH   HEALER  133 

MlCHAELIS. 

And  —  then  ? 

LAZARUS. 

Good  Spirit  kiss  you,  call  you  his  son.  You  stoop 
down,  kiss  me  too.  Tell  me  to  get  up,  and  I  get  up 
—  slow,  like  from  deep,  deep  water. 

Pause. 

MlCHAELIS. 

Draws  the  boy  lip  close  and  looks  intently  into  his  eyes. 
Are  you  sure  He  said  "  Son  "  ? 

LAZARUS. 
Yes.  Son. 

From  outside  a  distant  sound  of  singing  is  heard, 
hoarse  voices  of  men  and  treble  of  women.  At  the 
sound  Michaelis  springs  up,  and .  begins  to  pace  the 
room.  He  catches  sight  of  Rhoda,  pauses  in  his  dis 
tracted  walk,  and  makes  a  gesture  to  the  boy,  who 
has  also  observed  her,  to  leave  the  room.  Lazarus 
obeys  with  reluctance,  lingering  at  the  door  until 
Michaelis  turns  tipon  him  with  a  touch  of  sternness. 
Michaelis  removes  the  screen  from  the  lamp,  and 
bends  over  Rhoda,  studying  her  face.  She  wakes, 
and  starts  up  frightened  and  bewildered. 


134  THE  FAITH   HEALER      [ACT  iv 

RHODA. 

What  —  what  is  the  matter? — O,  you  frightened 
me  so ! 

Micliaelis  turns  away  without  answering. 
What  has  happened  ?  Why  are  you  here  ? 

MlCHAELIS. 

Nothing.  —  It 's  nearly  morning. 

RHODA. 

Collecting  her  thoughts  with  difficulty. 
I  was  dreaming.  —  Such  a  strange  dream  1 

MlCHAELIS. 

What  did  you  dream  ? 

RHODA. 

I  thought  it  was  morning  ;  the  sun  had  risen,  and — 
and  you  were  out  there,  in  the  midst  of  the  crowd. 

MlCHAELIS. 

Excitedly. 

Go  on  !  —  What  happened  ? 


ACT  IV]      THE  FAITH   HEALER  135 

RHODA. 
I  —  I  can't  remember  the  rest. 

MlCHAELIS. 

Grasps  her  arm,  speaks  low. 

You  must  remember !  —  Did  I  —  succeed  ? 

RHODA. 
Helplessly. 
I  —  It 's  all  a  blur  in  my  mind. 

MlCHAELIS. 

Darkly. 

You  don't  want  me  to  know  that,  in  your  dream, 

I  failed. 

RHODA. 

No,  no  ! — That  is  not  so. 
Pause.    She  speaks  with  hesitation. 

Perhaps  this  is  not  the  time.   Perhaps  you  are  not 
ready. 

MlCHAELIS. 

What  does  that  matter  ?  He  is  ready. 


136  THE  FAITH   HEALER       [ACT  iv 

RHODA. 
How  do  you  know  that? 

MlCHAELIS. 

Points  at  the  map. 

I  have  told  you  it  is  written  there.  It  is  written  in 
letters  of  fire. 

RHODA. 

Gazing  at  the  map,  with  mystic  conviction. 
You  will  succeed  !  You  must  succeed  ! 

He  paces  the  room ;  then  stops,  confronting  her,  and 
pointing  toward  her  room. 

MlCHAELIS. 

How  is  the  child  ? 

She  hesitates.  He  repeats  the  words  anxiously. 

How  is  the  child  ? 

RHODA. 
It  —  it  is  better,  I  think.  It  will  get  well,  I  am  sure. 

MlCHAELIS. 

If  it  does  not,  I  am  judged. 


ACT  IV]      THE  FAITH   HEALER  137 

RHODA. 
O,  don't  say  that  or  think  it ! 

MlCHAELIS. 

I  am  weighed  in  the  balance  and  found  wanting. 

RHODA. 

You  cannot  hang  the  whole  issue  and  meaning  of 
our  life  upon  so  slight  a  thread. 

MlCHAELIS. 

The  whole  issue  and  meaning  of  the  world  hangs 
on  threads  as  slight.  If  this  one  is  slight.  To  the 
mother  it  is  not  slight,  nor  to  the  God  who  put 
into  her  eyes,  as  she  looked  at  me,  all  the  doubt 
and  question  of  the  suffering  earth.  O,  I  have  tried 
to  hide  myself  behind  the  doctors  and  the  men  of 
learning  !  I  have  tried  to  think  that  a  child's  mind 
is  not  open  for  the  spirit  of  healing  to  enter.  But  I 
know  well  that  that  little  life  in  my  hand  is  as  clay 
in  the  hands  of  the  potter.  I  know  that  if  I  cannot 
help  here,  it  is  because  my  ministry  has  been 
taken  from  me  and  given  to  another,  to  some 
greater  one  to  come,  who  shall  be  strong  where  I 
am  weak,  and  faithful  where  I  am  unfaithful. 

A  song  rises  outside,  distant. 


138  THE  FAITH   HEALER      [ACT  iv 

RHODA. 
Comes  closer  to  him. 

Tell  me  this.  Speak  plainly  to  me  this  once.  Is  it 
because  of  me  that  your  weakness  and  unfaith 
have  come  upon  you  ? 

MlCHAELIS. 

Half  to  himself. 

Weakness,  unfaith !  Has  it  come  to  that  ? 

RHODA. 
You  know  it  has  come  to  that.  Is  it  because  of  me  ? 

MlCHAELIS. 

After  a  pause  y  looks  at  her  steadily. 

Yes. 

RHODA. 

Because  of  something  in  me  —  some  wickedness, 
some  taint? 

MlCHAELIS. 

No  !  You  are  all  purity,  all  goodness. 
Rhoda  makes  a  gesture  of  denial.    He  goes  on  without 
heeding. 

No,  it  is  not  so  either.  It  is  not  so  that  you  walk 
before  me,  and  look  at  me,  and  look  away  from  me, 


ACT  iv]      THE  FAITH   HEALER  139 

and  wound  me  with  love !  But  you  stand  apart,  in 
a  world  where  neither  goodness  nor  evil  have  ever 
come.  Before  creation,  beyond  time,  God  not  yet 
risen  from  His  sleep,  you  stand  and  call  to  me,  and 
I  listen  in  a  dream  that  I  dreamed  before  Eden.  — 

He  comes  closer,  his  passion  mounting. 

All  my  life  long  I  have  known  you,  and  fled  from 
you.  I  have  heard  you  singing  on  the  hills  of  sleep 
and  have  fled  from  you  into  the  waking  day.  I 
have  seen  you  in  the  spring  forest,  dancing  and 
throwing  your  webs  of  sunlight  to  snare  me ;  on 
moonlit  mountains,  laughing  and  calling ;  in  the 
streets  of  crowded  cities,  beckoning  and  disappear 
ing  in  the  crowd,  —  and  everywhere  I  have  fled 
from  you,  holding  above  my  head  the  sign  of  God's 
power  in  me,  my  gift  and  my  mission.  —  What 
use?  What  use?  It  has  crumbled,  and  I  do  not 
care !  —  I  have  denied  you  and  thrust  you  away. 
But  that  is  over.  I  tell  you  it  is  through  with  for 
ever  !  —  You  are  all  that  I  have  feared  and  shunned 
and  missed  on  earth,  and  now  I  have  you  the  rest 
is  as  nothing. 

He  takes  her,  feebly  resisting,  into  his  arms. 

I  know  a  place,  out  there,  high  in  the  great  moun- 


140  THE  FAITH   HEALER      [ACT  iv 

tains.  Heaven-piercing  walls  of  stone,  a  valley 
of  trees  and  sweet  water  in  the  midst  —  grass  and 
flowers,  such  flowers  as  you  have  never  dreamed 
could  grow.  —  There  we  will  take  our  happiness. 
A  year — a  month  —  a  day  —  what  matter?  We 
will  make  a  life-time  of  each  hour ! 

RHODA. 
Yielding  to  his  embrace,  whispers. 

Don't  talk.     Don't  think.    Only  —  love   me.     A 

little  while.    A  little  while. 

The  deep  hush  of  their  embrace  is  broken  by  a  cry  from 

within.    The  yotmg  mother  opens  the  hall  door,  in  a 

distraction  of  terror  and  grief  . 

MOTHER. 

Come  here  !  Come  quick ! 

Michaelis  and  Rhoda  draw  apart.    He  stares  at  the 
woman,  as  if  not  remembering  who  she  is. 

MICHAELIS. 
What  is  it? 

MOTHER. 

I  can't  rouse  him.  He 's  gone !  My  baby 's  gone. 
O,  my  God,  he 's  dead  1 


ACT  IV]      THE  FAITH   HEALER  141 

She  disappears.  Rhoda  follows,  drawing  Michaelis, 
dazed  and  Jialf  resisting,  with  her.  Lazarus  pushes 
the  stair  door  softly  open  and  follows  the  pair,  then 
hesitates,  turns,  and  with  a  gesture  of  despair  goes  out 
by  the  rear  entrance,  leaving  the  door  unlocked  behind 
him.  The  room  remains  vacant  for  a  short  time,  the 
stage  held  by  distant  singing.  It  has  begun  to  grow 
light  outside.  There  is  a  knock  at  the  outer  door ; 
Dr.  Littlefield  looks  in. 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

Speaks  back,  to  some  one  outside. 
Coast  clear. 

Littlefield  and  the  Rev.  Culpepper  enter,  followed  by 
Uncle  Abe.  Beeler  enters  simultaneously  from  the 
kitchen. 

Good-morning.  Thought  we  'd  be  on  hand  early. 
Did  n't  know  when  the  procession  to  Kingdom-come 
might  get  under  way. 

BEELER. 

With  silent  salutation. 
Did  you  find  that  door  unlocked  ? 

LITTLEFIELD. 
Yes. 


142  THE  FAITH   HEALER      [ACT  IV 

BEELER. 
Queer  thing ! 

He  re-locks  it. 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

Your  man  has  n't  vamoosed,  has  he?  Uncle  Abe 
here  says  he  saw  the  Indian  boy  slipping  by  in  the 
fog. 

Beeler  turns  to  the  negro  inquiringly. 

BEELER. 
Alone  ? 

UNCLE  ABE. 
Mumbles  half  to  himself. 

'Lone.  'Spec'  he  was  alone.  Did  n't  even  have  his 
own  flesh  and  bones  wif  'im ! 

BEELER. 
What 's  that  ? 

UNCLE  ABE. 

Holds  up  his  right  hand,  which  he  eyes  with  supersti 
tious  interest. 

Put  dis  hyar  han'  right  f rough  him  !  —  Shore  's 
you  're  bo'n.  Right  plum  frough  'im  whar  he 
lives  I 


ACT  IV]      THE  FAITH   HEALER  143 

BEELER. 
Excuse  me,  gentlemen. 

Exit  into  hall.    He  is  heard  to  knock  on  Rhodes  door, 
open  and  close  it. 

CULPEPPER. 

Employing  his  strongest  term  of  social  disapprobation. 
Mediaeval  1   Absolutely  mediaeval ! 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

Not  a  bit  of  it.   It's  up  to  date,  and  a  little  more 
too. 

CULPEPPER. 

I  'm  astonished  that  you  take  this  situation  flip 
pantly. 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

Not  for  a  minute.    My  bread  and  butter  are  at 
stake. 

Wickedly. 

Yours  too,  you  know. 

Beeler  reappears,  beckons  to  the  two,  putting  his  finger 
to  his  lips.  They  follow  him  out.  Uncle  Abe,  who  has 
not  been  included  in  Beelers  gesture,  stares  after 
them  curiously.  Mrs.  Beeler  enters,  alone,  from  the 
hall.  S/te  is  in  a  state  of  vague  alarm. 


144  THE  FAITH   HEALER      [ACT  IV 

MRS.  BEELER. 
To  the  negro. 

What  is  it?  What  is  the  matter? 
Uncle  Abe  shakes  his  head  in  silence. 
I  thought  I  heard — 

She  breaks  off,  as  a  murmur  of  voices  rises  outside. 

There  is  a  sound  of  stumbling  and  crowding  on  the 

outer  steps,  and  violent  knocking.    The  outer  door  is 

forced  open,  and  a  crowd  of  excited  people  is  about 

to  pour  into  the  room.     All  this  has  happened  so 

swiftly  that  Beeler,  recntering  hurriedly,  is  able  to 

force  the  crowd  back  only  after  several  have  made 

an  entrance. 

BEELER. 
Keep  back  !  You  can't  come  in  here. 

As  he  pushes  them  roiighly  back  and  defends  the  en 
trance,  several  excited  voices  speak  together. 

VOICES  IN  THE  CROWD. 

Where  is  he? — They  say  he's  gone  away.  We 
seen  his  boy  makin'  for  the  woods.  —  O,  it 's  not 
true  !  Make  him  come  out. 


ACT  IV]      THE  FAITH   HEALER  145 

BEELER. 
Curse  you,  keep  back,  I  say  ! 

Simultaneously  with  Beeler,  the  doctor,  minister,  and 
Rhoda  have  entered  from  the  hall,  and  Martha  from 
the  kitchen.  The  two  women  support  Mrs.  Beeler, 
who  remains  standing,  the  fear  deepening  in  her 
face.  The  men  have  crossed  to  the  door,  to  assist 
Beeler  in  case  the  attack  is  renewed. 

A  VOICE. 

On  the  outskirts  of  the  crowd. 
Where 's  he  gone  to  ? 

BEELER. 

He  's  here.   In  the  next  room.   Keep  back  !   Here 
he  comes  now. 

Michaelis  appears  in  the  hall  door,  which  Jias  remained 
open.  There  is  a  low  murmur  of  excitement,  expec 
tation,  and  awe  among  the  people  crowded  in  the 
entrance.  Beeler  and  the  other  men  step  to  one  side, 
leaving  Michaelis  to  confront  the  crowd  alone.  Con 
fused,  half-whispered  exclamations:  "Hallelujah" 
"Emmanuel";  from  a  negro,  "Praise  de  Lamb" 
Above  the  murmuring  voices,  a  woman  s  voice  rises  : 
"He  hath  arisen,  and  His  enemies  are  scattered." 


146  THE  FAITH   HEALER      [ACT  IV 

MlCHAELIS. 

Who  said  that  ? 

The  woman,  obscurely  seen  in  the  crowd,  lifts  her  hands 
and  cries  again,  this  time  in  a  voice  ecstatic  and 
piercing:  "  The  Lord  hath  arisen,  and  His  enemies 
are  scattered  !  " 

MlCHAELIS. 

His  enemies  are  scattered !  Yea,  as  a  whirlwind. 
He  scatters  them,  the  evil  and  the  faithless ! 

He  advances  into  the  room,  with  a  gesture  backward 
through  the  open  door. 

In  yonder  room  a  child  lies  dead  on  its  mother's 
knees,  and  the  mother's  eyes  follow  me  with 
curses. 

At  the  news  of  the  child" s  death,  Mrs.  Beelerhas  sunk 
with  a  low  moan  into  a  chair,  where  she  lies  white 
and  motionless.  Michaelis  turns  to  her. 

And  here  lies  one  who  rose  at  my  call,  and  was  as 
one  risen  ;  but  now  — 

He  breaks  off,  raises  his  hand  at  her,  and  speaks  in  a 
voice  of  pleading. 

Arise,  my  sister ! 

She  makes  a  feeble  gesture  of  the  left  hand. 


ACT  IV]      THE  FAITH   HEALER  147 

Rise  up  once  more,  I  beseech  you ! 

She  attempts  to  rise,  but  falls  back  helpless.  He  crosses 

the  room,  saying  as  if  to  himself,  in  a  voice  of  tragic 

resignation,  — 
Broken !  Broken ! 
At  the  stair  door  he  turns,  and  again  addresses  the 

crowd. 

Despair  not,  for  another  will  come,  and  another 
and  yet  another,  to  show  you  the  way.  And  for 
me,  pity  me  and  love  me  and  help  me  in  your 
feebleness,  for  I  am  become  as  one  of  you. 

He  goes  out,  and  is  heard  ascending  the  uncarpeted 
stairs. 

BEELER. 

Bending  over  his  wife. 
Can't  you  get  up,  mother? 
She  shakes  her  head.  One  of  the  bystanders,  at  Peelers 

signal,  rolls  the  invalid-chair  to  her  side,  and  they 

lift  her  inert  form  into  it. 

BEELER. 

You  might  as  well  go  home,  my  friends.  It 's  over. 

Beeler  pushes  the  chair  out.  Rhoda  has  sunk  down 
by  the  table,  her  face  hidden.  The  room  is  emptied 
in  silence  of  all  but  her  and  Dr.  Littlefield.  After 


i48  THE  FAITH   HEALER      [ACT  iv 

a  philosophic  gesture  to  the  departing  minister,  Lit- 
tlefield  lights  a  cigarette  and  smokes  with  enjoyment. 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

Well,  how  about  that  little  lamp  all  trimmed  and 
burning  ? 

She  does  not  move.    He  waits  ;  then  drops  his  Jlippant 
tone. 

You've  been  agonizing  over  shadows,  why  not 
try  a  little  comfortable  sense  ?  We  '11  go  West  and 
renew  our  youth. 
He  hesitates  >  then  gathers  himself  together. 

Confound  it,  Rho,  if  you  're  so  set  on  it,  I  '11  marry 
you  !  —  Straight  and  square. 
She  makes  a  distracted  gesture. 
Ton  honor.  Till  death  us  do  part ! 

RHODA. 
Looking  up. 

Please  go. 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

Did  you  hear  what  I  said  ? 

RHODA. 
Yes,  I  heard  it. 


ACT  IV]      THE  FAITH   HEALER  149 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

How   about  your  bargain,  then?    Doesn't  that 
mean  anything  to  you,  either  ? 

RHODA. 

No. 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

Goes  to  the  outer  door,  which  he  opens. 
Last  call,  old  girl. 

Pause.   He  throws  away  his  cigarette  stub,  and  in 
dulges  in  a  cynical  shrug. 
Women ! 
Exit. 

Michaelis  is  heard  descending.  He  enters,  carrying 
his  hat  and  a  kind  of  cloth  knapsack,  such  as  is 
sometimes  used  by  foot-travelers.  Still  holding  his 
hat  and  bundle,  he  bends  over  her. 

MICHAELIS. 
Come !  Come  away  with  me,  into  the  new  life. 

RHODA. 

Looks  at  him  for  a  long  time  in  silence. 
A  life  rooted  in  the  failure  of  all  that  your  life  has 
meant  to  you  from  the  beginning. 


150  THE  FAITH   HEALER      [ACT  iv 

MlCHAELIS. 

Until  to-day  I  did  not  know  what  my  life  was. 

RHODA. 

You  do  not  know  that  —  even  yet.  It  is  greater 
than  you  are.  —  And  of  my  life  you  know  less  than 
nothing.  You  have  not  asked  me  a  single  question 
about  —  my  life. 

MlCHAELIS. 

There  was  no  need. 

RHODA. 

There  was  need  !  There  was  need !  Need  for  me  to 
tell  and  for  you  to  hear.  —  You  swept  me  along 
and  lifted  me  above  myself  in  that  first  hour  of 
our  meeting.  And  all  the  hours  of  the  next  day 
you  held  me  above  myself,  like  a  strong  wind.  I 
did  n't  know  what  you  were.  I  did  n't  know  why 
I  was  happy  and  exalted.  I  had  been  wretched  so 
long,  —  such  bitterness  and  anger  of  heart.  But 
now,  suddenly,  in  an  instant,  I  was  filled  with  new 
joy,  new  hope  and  courage,  and  thoughts  of  a  life 
lived,  by  faith,  to  some  far-off,  lovely  issue.  O,  it 
was  so  long  since  I  had  been  happy,  and  I  had 
never  been  as  happy  as  that,  or  anything  like  it. 


ACT  IV]      THE  FAITH   HEALER  151 

MlCHAELIS. 

I  never  spoke  to  you  of  these  things. 

RHODA. 

Not  much,  in  words.  But  you  said  some  things, 
and  the  rest  spoke  from  you,  thundered  and  sang 
in  the  silence.  —  Then  came  the  revelation  of  what 
you  were,  a  blinding  light.  And  while  I  stood 
dazed,  trembling,  I  saw  something  descend  upon 
you  like  a  shadow,  and  I  knew  that  it  had  been 
there  from  the  first,  and  that  I  had  feared  it  from 
the  first.  You  loved  me,  and  that  love  was  dread 
ful  to  you.  You  thought  it  was  so  because  I  was 
a  woman,  and  stole  your  spirit's  strength  away. 
But  it  was  not  that.  It  was  because  I  was  a  wicked 
woman. 

MlCHAELIS. 

Why  do  you  call  yourself  a  wicked  woman? 

RHODA. 

Because  I  am  so.  —  It  is  cruel,  it  is  cruel  1  I  was 
young  then,  wild-hearted,  pitifully  ignorant.  But 
those  things  never  fade  from  a  girl's  soul,  never, 
never.  Men  don't  know  that,  or  they  could  not  in 
common  pity  treat  us  as  they  do. 


152  THE  FAITH   HEALER      [ACT  iv 

MlCHAELIS. 

Looks  at  her  long  and  broodingly. 
Poor  child!  Poor  child  ! 

RHODA. 

I  tried  to  go  away.  You  wouldn't  let  me  go.  I 
thought  I  had  suffered  before,  but  until  I  knew  — 
about  us  —  I  had  never  really  suffered.  It  had  been 
like  a  wrong  done  by  and  to  another  —  a  sister  — 
a  younger  sister,  whom  I  rose  up  in  my  dreams  like 
a  tigress  to  defend.  But  now  —  now  I  —  suffered. 

MlCHAELIS. 

You  were  in  all  this  need,  and  I  —  I  only  added 
gall  to  your  bitterness ! 

RHODA. 

Sweetness  too.  The  words  are  written  here  for 
ever. 

She  touches  her  breast.     He  remains  silent,  brooding 
upon  her.     After  a  pause,  she  goes  on. 

A  little  while  ago,  standing  here,  I  tried  to  tell  you 
—  tried  to  break  with  my  own  hands  the  sweet 
and  terrible  vine  that  grew  and  grew  about  us,  and 


ACT  IV]      THE  FAITH   HEALER  153 

tangled  your  feet  from  their  path.  I  knew  why  I 
took  your  spirit's  strength  away,  and  I  had  nerved 
myself  to  tell  you  why.  But  you  began  to  speak 
— those  wild  words,  that  made  me  dizzy  and  drunk 
with  joy.  —  And  then  suddenly  God  shattered  us, 
you  through  me,  and  me  through  you,  and  all 
those  suffering  and  expecting  ones  through  us  both. 

Pause. 

MICHAELIS. 

It  was  not — what  you  have  told  me — that  took 
my  strength  away. 

RHODA. 
It  was  not  —  that  ? 

MICHAELIS. 
It  is  that  that  gives  me  my  strength  back  again. 

RHODA. 

Wonderingly. 

Gives  you  — your  strength — back  again? — How 
do  you  mean  ?  —  How  can  that  be  ? 

MICHAELIS. 

When  I  saw  you  first,  and  all  the  hours  since  then 
—  till  now — you  were  to  me  —  (he  hesitates,  search 
ing  for  his  image}  you  were  the  fairy  creature, 


154  THE  FAITH   HEALER      [ACT  iv 

flinging  her  web  of  sunlight  in  the  forest  to  snare 
me  ;  you  were  the  spirit  of  earthly  joy,  lifting  your 
bowl  of  bright  wine  on  the  mountains  of  the  sun 
set. —  And  all  the  time  you  were  just  a  weak, 
wounded  girl,  praying  for  strength  to  live,  to  heal 
your  wounds,  and  —  after  many  days  —  to  find 
the  peace  that  you  had  lost. 

RHODA. 
Low. 

Yes.     I  was  —  only  —  that. 

MlCHAELIS. 

And  I,  who  have  dared  to  touch  the  bodies  of  men 
to  heal  them,  I  did  not  see  that  you  were  in  need 
of  what  the  whole  world  needs —  healing,  healing ! 

He  puts  his  hand  on  her  head  and  gazes  into  her  face. 

I  looked  into  your  eyes  once,  and  they  were  ter 
rible  as  an  army  with  banners.  I  look  again  now, 
and  I  see  they  are  only  a  girl's  eyes,  very  weak, 
very  pitiful.  —  I  told  you  of  a  place,  high  in  the 
great  mountains.  I  tell  you  now  of  another  place, 
higher  yet,  in  more  mysterious  mountains.  Travel 
thither,  for  there  is  strength  there.  And  I  will  go 
with  you,  step  by  step,  from  faith  to  faith  and  from 


ACT  IV]       THE   FAITH   HEALER  155 

strength  to  strength,  for  I  see  depths  of  life  open 
and  heights  of  love  come  out,  which  I  never 
dreamed  of  till  now ! 

RHODA. 

With  dawning  hope  and  joy. 
You  mean  that  —  even  now  —  ? 

MlCHAELIS. 

In  God's  fair  time.  As  the  seed  bursts,  as  the  bud 
is  opened. 

RHODA. 
You  mean  — it  is  not  —  too  late  ? 

MlCHAELIS. 

I  mean  that  as  you  cry  to  me  for  help,  the  strength 
that  I  had  lost  pours  back  into  my  soul. 

RHODA. 
O,  if  I  thought  that  could  be ! 

MlCHAELIS. 

By  the  mystery  that  is  man,  and  the  mercy  that  is 
God,  I  say  it  is  so ! 

A  song  rises  outside. 


156  THE  FAITH   HEALER       [ACT  iv 

RHODA. 
Starting  up. 

They  are  waiting  still ! 

He  follows  her  to  the  window  ;  they  gaze  out. 

MICHAELIS. 
Against  my  own  words,  they  trust  me  still ! 

RHODA. 

As  you  trust  yourself  still,  and  what  you  have 
been  given  to  do. 

MICHAELIS. 

I  thought  my  power  was  gone  forever.  It  has 
risen  again.  Even  now  it  rises  again,  higher  and 
higher,  a  mighty  flood,  quenchless,  deathless ! 

RHODA. 

Joyfully. 

I  see  it  in  your  face  !  I  feel  it  in  your  hand  1  — 
You  will  go  out  to  them  now. 

MICHAELIS. 

Points  to  the  room  where  the  child  lies. 
And  leave  this  behind  me  ? 


ACT  IV]       THE  FAITH   HEALER  157 

RHODA. 

Remember  —  that  hour  before  dawn,  in  the  chapel 
on  the  mesa,  when  the  other  watchers  were  asleep. 

MlCHAELIS. 

With  low  intensity. 

I  was  thinking  of  that !   I  was  thinking  of  that ! 

RHODA. 
But  now  —  the  greater  battle. 

MlCHAELIS. 

Indicating  Mrs.  Beelers  room. 

And  this  other,  who  rose  with  my  strength  and 
fell  with  my  weakness  —  ? 

RHODA. 
Until  the  greater  victory  ! 

He  opens  the  outer  door,  and  turns  on  the  threshold. 
They  look  at  each  other  in  silence,  which  Rhoda  is 
the  first  to  break,  her  voice  and  countenance  full  of 
suppressed  meaning. 

RHODA. 
On  earth  ? 


158  THE   FAITH   HEALER       [ACT  IV 

MlCHAELIS. 

I  pray  for  it. 

RHODA. 
And  —  if  not  ? 

MlCHAELIS. 

It  will  be. 

RHODA. 
But— if  not? 

MlCHAELIS. 

Then  —  somewhere. 

RHODA. 
Somewhere. 

MlCHAELIS. 

Somewhere  —  for  me  —  your  feet  —  shall  be  beau 
tiful  upon  the  mountains. 

RHODA. 
By  faith. 

MlCHAELIS. 

By  faith,  which  makes  all  things  possible,  which 
brings  all  things  to  pass. 

He  goes  out.    She  stands  watching  him  a  moment,  then 
herself  goes  out.    The  hall  door,  which   has  been 


ACT  IV]       THE  FAITH   HEALER  159 

left  slightly  ajar,  is  pushed  open,  and  Mrs.  Beeler 
appears,  walking  alone,  with  the  same  rapt,  trance- 
like  air  as  in  Act  II.  Her  husband  follows. 

BEELER. 
His  voice  muffled  by  fear  and  awe. 

Mary !  For  God's  sake,  what  is  it  ?  What 's  hap 
pened  to  you  ? 

MRS.  BEELER. 

Points  to  the  open  entrance  door. 
Seth  has  told  me. 

BEELER. 

Told  you  what,  mother?  You  were  lying-  there 
like  a  stone,  and  suddenly  — 

Breaks  off. 
Told  you  what? 

Mrs.  Beeler,  as  if  not  hearing  her  husband,  gazes  at 
the  light  of  the  rising  sun,  which  begins  to  flood  the 
room. 

MRS.  BEELER. 

The  Sun  of  Righteousness  hath  risen,  with  heal 
ing  in  its  wings ! 

A  door  opens  in  the  hall :  the  young  mother  appears. 


160  THE  FAITH   HEALER      [ACT  iv 

MOTHER. 

Ecstatic,  breathless. 
Come  here  !   O,  do  come  ! 

BEELER. 
What  is  it? 

MOTHER. 

My  baby !  —  I  don't  dare  say  it,  but  I  believe  — 
O,  I  do  believe  — ! 

She  draws  Beeler  out  with  her ;  he  goes,  glancing 
back  at  his  wife,  reluctant  to  leave  her.  Outside 
there  rises  a  hymn,  of  martial  and  joyous  rhythm. 
Mrs.  Beeler  advances  to  the  table,  takes  one  of  the 
lilies  from  the  vase,  and  as  she  lifts  it  repeats  the 
young  woman  s  words,  but  with  an  accent  of  quiet 
and  serene  affirmation. 

MRS.  BEELER. 
I  believe.    I  do  believe ! 

Holding  the  lily,  she  passes  out  through  the  sun-flooded 
entrance-way  into  the  open  air. 

CURTAIN 


CAMBRIDGE  .  MASSACHUSETTS 
U    .    S    .   A 


516)476 


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